


Redemption

by kkavlie



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Canon Thru Book 4, Captain Save A Hoe Sokka, Characters aged up, Daddy Issues, F/M, Hearing Voices, MY HONOR, Mommy Issues, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Vengeance Pls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26214865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkavlie/pseuds/kkavlie
Summary: Azula is a fugitive on the run after breaking out of prison. She sets herself on a journey of vengeance, only to cross paths with a man who brings her redemption instead.
Relationships: Azula/Sokka (Avatar)
Comments: 70
Kudos: 116





	1. Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own ATLA or any of the characters.
> 
> Characters are aged up because it would be inappropriate otherwise.
> 
> Sokka: 22  
> Azula: 20  
> Zuko: 21  
> Katara: 20  
> Aang: 18

Azula scratched a long, pointed fingernail into the cold wall of her prison. Her impassive gaze drifted left, lazily counting the marred scratches on the rough cement, even though she already knew what the total count was. She had been trapped in her icy prison for a grand total of three hundred and sixty-five days.

She didn't need to look outside to know that it was just past dawn—not that she could, anyway. Her would-be tomb had no windows, nor lights.

The vents on the ceiling hissed like clockwork, pushing frigid air into the tiny cell. She pulled her thin robes tighter around her body, resisting the urge to shiver as frosty wind seeped under her clothing. What little power dawn brought for her bending was squashed the same way every morning, with chattering teeth and an intense hatred—for who, she no longer knew.

She climbed back into her creaky cot and slid under the equally thin blanket, flicking away the frost forming on her damp pillow and listening for the tell-tale heavy clunking of the oafish guard that brought her breakfast every morning. His face wasn't memorable, nor his name. She called him 'Imbecile 3', after the other two guards who rotated through the afternoon and evening. The cute nicknames hadn't won her any favors and over time, they'd all learned that entertaining her wicked banter was the only thing she had to look forward to. Now they didn't even look her in the eye. They were paid to make sure that she had no means to escape, and make sure she was fed. Spirits forbid she starve to death.

 _No, Zuzu insists that I suffer a long, lonely life in this cell until I'm decrepit and waste away,_ she thought.

 _As you should. All that training and you've nothing to show for it,_ Ozai responded in the recesses of her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut, curling her legs up into her stomach to condense what little warmth she was able to produce on her own.

"Shut up," she whispered back, but she knew he wouldn't oblige to her order. Even in her own mind, her father controlled every aspect of her life. These days, he was all the company she had.

_Fire Lord Zuko must be sitting on that warm throne now, ruling over the nation that was supposed to be yours. Perhaps Ursa was right to favor him—she must have seen something that I clearly missed._

"Leave me alone," Azula replied with venom. The thought of her mother was an even more sore subject now than ever. She could remember the vivid moment of her loss to Zuko and the water tribe witch, the feeling of absolute failure as she was forced to her knees and cried for her cursed mother of all people. She'd had plenty of time to think about the decisions and moments that had led her exactly where she was now.

_You were weak, Azula. Your pathetic little mind broke and you let him win._

She ignored Ozai, but his thunderous voice seemed louder than ever. He wasn't wrong. Something in her had snapped. It had taken a while in this isolated cell, trapped with her own thoughts, for her to realize that something was amiss in her head. There was some part of her mind that had splintered and taken the shape of Ozai. This much she could decipher on her own. _How much_ of her mind had she lost to this manifestation of Ozai? She had no idea. It seemed that over the span of the year the quiet whispers of her father had grown louder and louder until he was an all-consuming presence of intense hate and vitriol.

Imbecile 3 was trudging towards her cell now. She could hear his lumbering footsteps, distinctly different than Imbeciles 1 and 2. She closed her eyes when the heavy steel door outside her cell swung open, blinding light filtering into the icebox.

She turned to face it, soaking in as much warmth and light as she could from the few seconds the guard was allotted to drop off her meal. He slid the tray of food under a square gap in her cell, the sound of soup sloshing in its bowl a sore reminder of how quickly she would need to eat it before it froze over with the rest of the room. She'd learned that the hard way the first few times.

"How's my brother doing, 3?" she asked, desperate for a few more moments with the door open. She could feel the warmth from outside her cell filtering in, fueling the enduring coals of her blue flames.

 _Keep him talking,_ Ozai urged.

Imbecile 3 snorted, his warm breath billowing in the icy room. "Better than you, Princess."

"Does he ask about me?"

She forced the shiver out her voice. She purposefully softened her sharp eyes when he looked at her, turning her shoulders in and gripping her robes tightly, making herself as small as possible. This was the first time she'd had a conversation with someone other than herself or Ozai in over a month. She craved the socialization more than she'd cared to admit. She was desperate for any sort of response.

"You're fooling no one, Princess. Happy anniversary. I'm sure this is just one of many years you'll celebrate the ascension of Fire Lord Zuko—though I'm sure he's already forgotten about you," he jeered before stepping out the door and slamming it shut.

Azula couldn't stop the rage that bubbled in her chest. Rage from the loss of warmth, rage from the lack of conversation, rage from Ozai laughing in her head, and worst of all—rage from knowing Zuko was celebrating his first year as Fire Lord while she sat alone in her icy prison with her bowl of rapidly freezing soup.

_Congratulations, daughter. One year down, a hundred more to go._

A week passed in similar fashion, the days melting into nights, the same bland meals consumed with little thought, and Ozai to further torment her festering soul. The trio of Imbeciles continued to make their rounds as usual, only stopping to drop off her meals. They never lingered longer than necessary, and never responded to her attempts at conversation.

Her talks with Ozai, on the other hand, were becoming more frequent. He had somehow found a strange balance between berating her whilst urging her to hatch an escape plan. She concluded it was her psyche clinging to the hope of seeing the sun again, yet knowing the odds were close to none. She wondered when she would stop being able to rationalize these conversations and succumb to her insanity—succumb to the belief that Ozai's consciousness actually lived within her.

"Do you really think I haven't thought of every possible way to escape, father?" she replied with venom one evening right after Imbecile 1 had dropped off her dinner. She sipped quietly on the soup and picked at the bland bread as Ozai ranted on.

_Useless girl, Agni could grant you all the lightning in the world and you would still miss your mark. I bet the water tribe wench is with the Avatar now, soaking up all the glory that should have been yours—and mine._

Azula's eye twitched at that, her heart twisting with hatred at the thought of the water bending girl with the kind eyes and pretty face. Those same eyes had looked down upon Azula with pity whilst forcing her into submission and pushed her deeper into insanity.

Was she living her perfect little life with the Avatar? Was she happy, knowing Azula was put away for life? She wished for nothing more than another attempt at destroying the dark-skinned witch, another chance to right her mistake.

 _You can't even find the will to incapacitate the guard, and you think you could take on the water wench?_ Ozai thundered on in her head. Azula rubbed her temples, flicking her too-long hair out of her eyes. Ozai, once again, wasn't wrong. In her first months in the prison she'd tried every trick up her sleeve to manipulate her way out, but to no avail. Zuko had warned the guards about her lies and ruses.

She hadn't ever attempted to blast her way out because she couldn't, not with the subzero temperatures putting a stopper on her bending. What little power she could muster from daybreak or the open cell door was used up to keep herself warm enough to move around—that was the purpose of this hellhole. She could only bend enough to stay alive, no more, no less.

She settled into her cot, pulling the thin sheet up to her chin and curling up into a ball to reserve what little heat she had left until dawn. Sleep had progressively become harder to maintain this week. The culmination of Zuko's first year celebration as Fire Lord, Ozai's toxic rants, and the slow recognition that she would never escape this prison left her little room for rest. She blinked away the burning tears welling in her eyes. She was thankful that at least tonight, Ozai seemed to be quieter than usual.

The next morning brought something out-of-routine. She'd scratched a new line into the wall and soaked up as much power as dawn would allow before the vents turned on, as usual. What struck her as strange was that Imbecile 3's clunky footsteps had changed. The thudding was lighter and faster, as though he'd lost a lot of weight.

 _That's not Imbecile 3,_ she realized. The opportunity of this being a new guard was one she couldn't afford to dismiss. She quickly pulled her robes tighter around her body to fit against her frame and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. A quick pinch on the cheeks brought color to them and she softened her eyes right as the cell door swung open. She bit back the smirk threatening to form on her lips at the sight of a brand-new guard, a young man who looked about her age.

Just like the other Imbeciles, his features weren't note-worthy. He was tall and lankier than the other guards and notably younger. She briefly wondered if Imbecile 3 had finally keeled over and died, the overweight oaf clearly partook in more food than needed for survival.

The sloshing of bland soup brought her thoughts back to the forefront. He carried in her tray with his head high, but she could see the quiver in his knees. He was nervous. That made her happier than she'd like to admit.

"Good morning," she greeted in the softest, warmest tone she could muster. His eyes met hers only briefly, but that was all she needed. She offered a smile, not moving from her seat on her cot as he leaned down to slide the tray into the gap of her cell. He said nothing, only the faintest blush on his cheeks giving him away. He turned away quickly, striding to leave the cell.

The other guards had obviously warned him not to linger or speak to her. She'd need him to warm up to her faster than they could poison him against her. "Thank you," she called softly, slowly standing to pick up her breakfast. He paused at her thanks, as if wanting to turn around to give her a reply, but changed his mind and slammed the door shut.

 _You know what to do,_ Ozai whispered.

"Yes, father. I know what to do," she repeated, the cogs of her sharp mind devising her escape. For the first time in a year, she looked forward to tomorrow.

The remainder of the week passed in the same way. Azula made sure to greet and thank the new guard each morning. Their eyes would meet for fleeting moments and he would rush out the door, cheeks beet red. She made it a point to keep her smile warm and her expression docile. Imbeciles 1 and 2 continued to make their rounds as usual but for them, she had no smiles.

Ozai continued urge her to make more pointed moves, but she knew better. The boy was young, but he wasn't stupid enough to get close, at least not yet. She'd need more time. The following morning, she greeted the boy and their eyes met again. She took the opportunity to pose him an innocent question.

"What's your name?"

She pulled the tray of soup and bread closer, taking a sip and waiting for his response.

She watched his jaw flex as he bit back a reply. He turned to leave the room, but this time she was pleased when he turned back around to face her. The extra few seconds of warmth from the outside brought her more energy then she'd had in months. She watched him war with himself, knowing he shouldn't speak to her but choose to do so anyway. He shifted uncomfortably at the door, his hands clenched at his sides.

"Zhang," he relented, before promptly exiting and shutting out the warmth with him.

Azula lifted her hand and nearly fell into a fit of laughter when a tiny blue flame burst to life, dancing in her palm. She extinguished it quickly, reserving the little bit of energy she had left to keep herself warm.

_You grow stronger the longer he lingers._

"You don't say," Azula spat irritably, quickly draining her now cold soup and lazily picking at her bread. The rest of the day brought her no more joy.

Several days later, they had another exchange. Zhang carried in her tray as usual and slid it under the gap in her cell, but his expression wasn't one of fear. He'd learned that she didn't move from her seat on the cot until he stepped away from the cell. He was visibly more relaxed each time they interacted, and his eyes lingered on her longer each day. Azula knew she wasn't hard on the eyes and used it to her advantage.

"Thank you, Zhang."

The corner of her mouth twitched up into a small smile when he flushed red upon hearing his name. He watched her pick up her tray this time, sipping on the bowl of bland soup. She could tell he wanted to say something. She watched him from under dark eyelashes with a purposefully unassuming expression. Every second he left that door open was crucial for her bending. She could feel the smoldering coals of her fire burning brighter with the prison door ajar. Light filtered in and she cast a brief glance out the door, wondering what lay outside.

 _Freedom,_ Ozai's slithery taunt answered.

_Shut up._

"Y-you aren't as mean as they say," Zhang blurted, his face somehow becoming impossibly more scarlet.

Ozai's laughter in her head was jarring. She ignored it, her expression twisting into one of amusement at Zhang's statement. "Who says I'm mean?" she asked, needing him to continue talking. This was the strongest she'd felt since arriving in the icebox. Her frayed nerves were surging with power, warmth stretching from her head to her fingertips, all the down to her toes.

"The guards," he replied, pausing briefly and stepping closer to the bars of her icy cell, "… the entire palace, really."

For a fleeting moment, Azula's sharp eyes flashed angrily. She'd always known that the Fire Nation's palace staff were afraid of her, but it seemed that in the last year they'd become bolder, less afraid of the princess locked away in the ice dungeon. She'd make them pay for slandering her name.

"Princess Azula?" Zhang's voice broke through the tirade in her head and she schooled her facial expression to show remorse and sadness. She needed to keep him talking. She was so close to having enough power to melt the lock on her cell door.

"I'm not what they say I am, Zhang," she lied, moving slowly to stand. He visibly tensed but didn't move from his spot. He stood right outside her cell, close enough to grab through the steel. She moved very slowly, taking short steps closer to him. Moments later, they stood in front of each other.

She worked his height to her advantage, looking up at him through her lashes and reaching out to grip the icy bars separating them. She could feel the heat radiating off his body through his armor, a sign that he was at full power in terms of bending. Azula had never doubted her own abilities before, but she hesitated now, wondering if the small percentage of power she'd saved up would be enough.

 _You of all people should know that bending is not the only way to attack,_ Ozai hissed.

Her heart was pounding heavily in her chest upon realization of how close she was to freedom. Zhang looked down at her with inexperienced eyes, completely unaware of how close he was to an untimely demise. She'd seen this look before, just once, at Ember Island. It was the look of infatuation, curiosity, and intrigue. She remembered her kiss with Chan, the idiotic whelp who had feared her desire for more power. On cue, she tilted her head up and pushed closer to the bars, giving Zhang his opportunity and also ensuring her own.

_Kill him._

Ozai's order made her stomach churn and she didn't know why. She closed her eyes when Zhang's lips descended on hers and for the briefest moment, she enjoyed his timid kiss and the warmth of his skin.

 _Disgusting,_ Ozai retched. _Kill him now, Azula._

Pushing through Ozai's insistent pressure on her mind, she made her choice. She was quick, her hand reaching up to curl into Zhang's hair and grip it firmly whilst pulling away from his mouth and slamming his head into the bars of her cell. It was an instant knockout, and she almost felt bad about the lump already forming on his head.

_If you'd killed him quietly, you wouldn't have had to deal with the guards coming down the hallway now._

"Shut up," Azula cursed, a bright blue flame bursting from her index finger. She pointed it at the door of her cell, the metal melting under the intense heat in seconds. She could hear thunderous footsteps approaching her cell. She waited for her moment, standing right in front of the unopened cell door.

Imbeciles 1 and 2 rushed into the door together and she grinned at their stupidity. With all her might, she released a fiery kick on the cell door and ripped it off its hinges straight into the fools standing at the door. The steel clanged heavily against them, sending them flying back out into the hallway and slammed them against the opposite wall. They both grunted in pain, sinking under the weight of the heavy metal.

On cue, alarms blared loudly and Azula cursed under her breath, ducking out of the door and darting left, where the Imbeciles' footsteps always came from. Down the long corridor she could hear more voices, loud and shrill, desperate to re-capture her. The air outside her icebox was notably warmer and she almost laughed at how easily her bending had returned. She could feel the power surging in her, blitzing under her skin, voltage in her veins.

"She must not escape! Capture her!" An unknown guard spotted her, followed by several more armed firebenders. Her smile turned into an all-out grin when she felt the spark of electricity flare in her chest. This was going to be easier than she thought. She could hear Ozai's dark laughter echoing her own.

_That's my girl._


	2. Escape

She felt good—no, _great_. Flashes of orange fire came at her in slow motion and she dodged with ease, the roar of flames drowning out her own crazed cackle.

"Fools!" she cried, electricity already blossoming from her chest and shooting into her hands. Her muscle memory fired off and the intricate steps required to bend lightning came back to her as though she'd been practicing daily. It felt so good to bend again and she rode the high, letting her pent-up excitement unfurl in a thunderous crackle of lightning. It shot straight into the horde of guards racing towards her, ripping through them like a white-hot bullet.

Was it overkill? Yes. Did she care? Not one bit.

They crumpled simultaneously and she dashed forward, still cackling loudly as she turned the corner and out the door they rushed from. It didn't take long for her to realize that Zuko had locked her in a prison deep in the earth below the palace. It was a stupid place to stow her. She would never put someone as deadly as herself somewhere so close to home. She took comfort in knowing he was probably panicking now, desperate to hunt her down and lock her away again.

His stupidity was her advantage. Azula knew the palace like the back of her hand. She'd spent her childhood not only honing her bending and martial arts, but also playing games with Ty Lee and Mai where she'd discovered several hidden passageways out of the palace. The thought of her dear old traitorous friends brought a sour taste to her mouth. She pushed them out of her thoughts and began her ascent upwards.

The light pouring into the prison entrance was blinding. She squinted, catching her first glimpse of sunlight in over a year. It was so beautiful.

The moment was rudely interrupted with a flurry of fire rushing past her head. She snarled at her attackers and sent a flaming kick in the air, a scorching blue wall erecting to obscure their vision as she sprinted away. Moments later she found refuge behind a thick pillar near the royal throne room. The guard's footsteps rushed by and she exhaled in relief.

The moment of silence calmed her enough to take a good look at her surroundings. The palace grounds brought strange feelings of nostalgia and pain. The very grounds she used to play and train on as a child had become her prison. She stifled the twisting of her heart and blinked away the angry tears. She needed to focus and find a way out without alerting any more guards. She already knew of the best secret passageway out.

It was easy to duck in and out of the shadows and find the tunnel near her old quarters to bow out of. It led outside the palace walls and into the Fire Nation Capital. She lifted the trap door and slid into it, ready to sprint towards freedom, but paused when she heard an all-too familiar voice echo in the adjacent room. She listened, an angry snarl twisting on her face.

"Zuko, you must calm yourself."

"How am I to calm myself when my crazy sister is on the loose? How the hell did she escape?!"

Azula heard Zuko's heavy robes swish with his frantic pacing, followed by Iroh's sigh.

"Where do you think she would go, Zuko?" Iroh prodded. She heard Zuko's exasperated sigh followed by what she hoped was her idiot brother ripping out his own hair using what little brain power he had to decipher her whereabouts. Of course, he'd need their dullard uncle to help him come to an answer. He'd never been able to do _anything_ on his own before and that held true, even as Fire Lord.

"I don't know, Uncle. It's Azula… she's not going to hide anywhere obvious."

_You're right about that Zuzu,_ she thought as Zuko continued his musings.

"If it were me, I'd hide in an area of thick population. Somewhere like Ba Sing Se, on the lowest level. It'd be out of character of her to live in such conditions… that makes it the perfect place for her to hide."

Azula grinned widely. It would take weeks for them to comb through Ba Sing Se looking for the fugitive princess of the Fire Nation. That gave her more than enough time to get herself as far away from Ba Sing Se as possible. She'd already thought of the perfect location.

_The Southern Water Tribe? You won't survive a fortnight there,_ Ozai sneered. Azula was sorely reminded that no secrets could be kept from the ever-present voice in her head. Amid her escape she'd almost forgotten of his presence.

_Do you ever tire of hearing your own voice, father?_

_My voice, your voice… they are one, Azula,_ he answered in the same oily voice.

She sighed and made the conscious choice to ignore him until she was safe. It was beyond distracting to have him whisper in her ear while she fought for her freedom… even if he was right. The chill of the South Pole wouldn't halt her bending, but it would diminish it from full power. It wasn't like she hadn't endured an entire year in an icebox. It wouldn't be that difficult. At least that's what she told herself.

_Besides,_ she thought, _if I'm to infiltrate and blend in with the savages I won't be able to bend anyway._

Zuko's irritating voice broke her thoughts.

"Send the Kyoshi warriors out to search Ba Sing Se… discreetly. We can't allow the world to know Azula is free. The frail bonds we've built with the water tribes and earth kingdom must be preserved."

Iroh hummed in agreeance. She heard a clink of porcelain and the steady stream of tea being poured into cups. "They should be returning from their assignments today. I'll have them informed and on their way to Ba Sing Se by morning."

Azula's eyes narrowed angrily. Zuko had the Kyoshi warriors at his beck and call?! One Kyoshi warrior wasn't a problem, but a horde of them wasn't ideal. She no longer had the support of her friends to back her up. She'd have to find a way to deal with them eventually.

"What about Aang?" Iroh questioned, his voice dropping lowly as the heavy footsteps of armed guards patrolled by.

Azula strained to listen to their hushed tones. Information of the Avatars location was priceless and Zuko was always so good about spilling the beans at the most inopportune times.

"He's taking a break," Zuko admitted with a guilty sigh.

"A well-deserved break," Iroh mused. "The duties of the Avatar must have been tedious since Ozai's downfall. Is Katara with him?"

"Yes. I told them to take a few weeks on Ember Island to unwind. It's been a long year. They deserve it."

The fury Azula felt flared exponentially upon knowledge of the Avatar's whereabouts. Ember Island?! That was _her_ vacation spot as a child. How dare her dimwit brother allow the Avatar and the Water Tribe witch to sully their home-away-from-home? She had half a mind to go straight to Ember Island first and blow it, along with the Avatar and his wench, to smithereens.

"Well, we'd best let them enjoy their time," Iroh agreed. Azula heard him take a long sip of tea before droning on, "… Don't worry, Zuko. These things always have a way of working themselves out. I have no doubt all will be well."

_We shall see, Uncle._

She closed the door of the hidden passageway and flitted down the empty carved path towards the Capital, leaving her brother and uncle to continue their misguided musings about her whereabouts. As much as it irked her that the Avatar was at Ember Island, she couldn't ignore the opportunity of going into hiding without him on her tracks. Even she couldn't have planned a better time to escape. With any luck she'd be able to find a change of clothes and sneak onto a vessel leaving for the Southern Water Tribe soon.

She quickly approached the exit of the passage that would open into a dark alleyway that branched out into the most populated street of the Capital. The Fire Nation port was just two clicks away from this location.

_Good luck not being recognized when you surface_ , Ozai jeered.

She gritted her teeth. Her face was easily identifiable in the Fire Nation, falling short only to Zuko and the Avatar himself. She'd need some way of disguising her identity. A change of clothes would be a good place to start.

She turned her attention to her appearance and scowled at her soiled robes and bare feet. There was nothing she could do about that now. But her hair—her hair she could fix. She swallowed thickly, remembering her last haircut as anything but pretty. The uneven bangs she'd given herself had finally grown out, leaving all physical signs of her mental breakdown gone. She wished her unhinged mind was as easy to fix.

Azula grimaced as she pulled her dirty hair into one hand and lit a sharp blue flame on the index finger of her other hand. She closed her eyes and swept the scorching fire over her black tresses, coughing at the smell of her singeing hair. Her head felt much lighter now, her dark hair just skimming the tops of her shoulders. She couldn't remember the last time it was this short. It was traditional for Fire Nation royalty to grow their hair out and she briefly felt regret. It was like a piece of her birthright had been stripped away.

She sighed, shaking off the sadness and turning her attentions back towards her ultimate goal: escape.

"No taunts, father?" she asked, throwing her cut hair onto the ground and moving towards the exit hatch. His silence was somehow just as painful as his insults.

Slipping quietly into the alleyway was easy enough. There were a few people strolling by, but Azula waited for the right moment to dart out of the shadows and begin her search for a change of outfit. She kept her head down, letting her hair shield her face as she stepped into the crowded street.

It was louder than she had anticipated.

Vendors called noisily from their various carts of produce and other goods, enticing shoppers with promises of great deals. To her displeasure, there seemed to be a lot of visitors from other nations flooding the Capital. She saw flashes of blue and green blobs through her shield of hair. There were piercing swishes of water from blue-clad vendors selling trinkets and the low rumble of Earthbending from merchants wearing green. The people shopping and walking were chatting with each other, but it felt like they were screaming into her ears.

_Zuko has opened trade to the other nations. Disgraceful,_ Ozai spat.

Azula couldn't respond to him. Her vision swam with disorientation from the flashy merchants and the hordes of people moving around her. It was loud—so loud. She clapped her hands over her ears and closed her eyes, taking uneven breaths. She hadn't calculated this mishap into her plan, hadn't calculated that she would no longer be able to function normally outside her cell. She'd grown so accustomed to the silence of the icebox that what should have been the easiest part of her escape was now the most difficult.

"Dearie, are you alright?"

Azula felt a warm hand on her shoulder and jerked away from a tiny old woman with kind, green eyes. She kept her head down and gritted her teeth, barely able to keep a hold of her balance as shoppers bumped past her. She saw the shuffle of the old woman's feet approaching her through bleary eyes.

"Come with me," the woman urged, reaching out for Azula's hand.

Azula felt warm fingers on her own and she grasped them tightly, allowing the woman to guide her away. She closed her eyes and wondered when the cacophony of sounds would become tolerable. Her ear drums were throbbing from the noise and a dull pain spread from the base of her neck up through her temples.

"Fuck," she spat, disgusted with her own weakness. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was strong, a fucking prodigy from childhood. She'd shined brighter than Zuko or any other Fire Nation royal for her entire life—but here she was, crippled by a little noise and overstimulation. She felt a gentle squeeze on her hand followed by the sound of a door creaking open.

The woman led her into a tiny home. It was quieter inside and Azula's pulse slowed, her awareness returning gradually with her steadying heartbeat. She said nothing as the tiny woman shuffled around in a drab kitchen, filling a cup with cool water.

"Drink," she urged, pushing the water into Azula's hands before turning her back to rummage through some old creaky drawers. Azula seriously considered incapacitating her good Samaritan and making a break for it, but instead chose to sip on the water and see what she could get out of this interaction. This was clearly not a Fire Nation native and the crone was old enough that Azula wasn't worried about her safety. She cleared her throat, putting on the innocent mask she'd mastered when fooling Zhang.

"Thank you. I've had a sensitivity to noise since childhood. Homelessness made it worse," she lied fluidly, using a higher pitched voice. Her sharp eyes perused the small home, identifying several green Earth Kingdom trinkets and old-fashioned décor hanging about. It was hideous, but she hid her antipathy under a warm smile as the woman turned to face her holding up equally unsightly green robes.

"You look like you've been through something fierce, Dearie."

_Observant old crone,_ Ozai growled.

Azula chuckled nervously and cleared her throat, swiping the clothing out of the woman's hands. "Yes, well… I'm fine now."

Was she, though? It didn't make sense. She'd had no problem blasting her way through the palace guards and those encounters had been just as loud as this—no, even louder. Why were these chatty peasants affecting her so strongly?

_You were born to fight, to kill, to rule,_ Ozai answered. He didn't say it, but she understood the implication. She was comfortable with slaughtering guards but couldn't hold a normal conversation with a stranger, much less interact with several at a time. Why?

_Because you made me like you, father. Incapable of a real relationship, incapable of anything but chaos and ruin._

_Foolish girl, I made you strong. Trust and love are for the weak, Azula. Power and fear are the difference between Kings and Gods. I am a God—and you would have been too, had you not been so weak._

Azula flinched inwardly. Ozai's harsh words made her stomach flip uneasily. Was this what she really felt? Was this manifestation of his personality who she really was? She reflected on his blunt words, desperately searching for the lie.

"You look so much like my daughter. She died many years ago," the woman replied with sad eyes. Azula was briefly reminded of Ursa and her kind mask fell, irritation twisting her expression.

"I'll be on my way now," she muttered dismissively, putting down her empty cup and gripping the new clothing tightly. She couldn't stop it—couldn't stop the rage rising in her chest, threatening to spill out of every pore of her body.

"What—were you expecting me to cry with you about your dead daughter? She's gone. Deal with it… or don't. It makes no difference to me."

_Ah, there she is. Welcome back, Azula,_ Ozai chuckled darkly. She grunted angrily as she discarded her tattered robes onto the old woman's floor and shoved her body into the new change of clothes, all while ignoring her now stunned helper.

"W-What did you say, Dear? I'm sure you meant—"

"I meant every word, hag. If you'd be so kind as to give me a pair of shoes as well," Azula cut her off, waving her hand glibly.

"Y-You wretched girl!"

"Shoes, now," Azula threatened, her cool voice not matching the piercing eyes she shot at the woman. Fear pooled on the hag's face, an expression Azula was supremely comfortable with. Fear was always the fuel to get the things she wanted out of people. She could feel Ozai's approval, even though he didn't say anything.

The woman scuffled into another drawer, pulling out a pair of old brown boots. Azula grimaced, yanked them out of her wrinkled hands, and stepped into them.

Moments later, she was headed towards the door. She paused, turning back to face her unnamed helper.

"Trust is for fools. You do well to remember that in the future before blindly helping a stranger."

With her wise parting words, she left, heading straight for the port of the Capital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sokka will be introduced in the next chapter :)


	3. Recognition

Azula had been stowed on a Fire Nation cargo vessel for an incredibly long two weeks and they had finally arrived at their destination. It had been less than ideal holing up in a cargo box filled with goods to be traded and sold to the Water Tribe. Upon investigation of the goods, she'd found plenty of food to sustain her through the week. She'd also found a container full of clothing and lifted a thick black coat to sport over her ugly green robes.

It was easy to avoid the crew members during the week as they only checked on the cargo once a day, but that meant she was left all alone with only Ozai to keep her company. He'd been ranting the entire trip about her decision to hide at the Southern Water Tribe.

Truthfully, the most ideal location to hide would have been somewhere warmer, with plenty of sunlight and a thick population that she could easily blend into. A part of her agreed with Ozai. This _was_ a stupid idea. She couldn't deny that.

But there was a larger part of her, a part that wanted vengeance, that urged her to wait in the Southern Water Tribe for the return of Katara. She wanted nothing more than to get her revenge on the goody-two-shoes bitch that forced her to her knees. She wanted to make her cry and beg for mercy. Moreover, she wanted to do it in Katara's element, to prove to herself that she was indeed the strongest. And after she'd had her way with the Avatar's whore, she'd make her way back to the Fire Nation to challenge Zuko to an Agni Kai and reclaim her rightful throne as Fire Lord. Maybe then, when everything she'd worked so hard for was finally hers, Ozai would leave her alone.

Azula could see her breath in the rapidly cooling air of the cargo box she was hiding in, the condensation dissipating into nothingness. There was a rumble and she recognized that they were on the move.

_I don't remember your plans being this half-cocked, Azula._

She was irritated with Ozai's crass observations— _her_ observations, of herself.

"My careful decisions and plans landed me in an icy hellhole for a year, father. Perhaps it's time to be a little more spontaneous," she mused uninterestedly. After several minutes of rumbling and jostling, the cargo box was dropped roughly onto the ground, tossing her about with the rest of the goods. She grimaced, rubbed her sore rear, and quickly ran to the front of the box. Using momentum, she agilely careened from shelf to shelf and perched right above the cargo doorway just as a vessel crew member entered.

She descended silently when his back was turned, darting out the door around the corner in a crouch. They had docked at what she assumed was the port of the South Pole. It was cold, but not as cold as her icebox. The coat was doing its job at keeping her comfortable enough, but she knew she'd need something thicker eventually. The chill was beginning to seep into her skin and the fire inside her crackled lowly.

There were several crew members sluggishly moving to do their jobs, cracking open cargo boxes and beginning to move merchandise out. They were too distracted to notice her darting in and out of the shadows, making her way out of the port and straight into towards the entrance of the Southern Water Tribe.

 _I hope your acting has improved,_ Ozai taunted as she neared tall, icy walls that unbelievably rivaled the height of the Fire Nation palace walls.

She was surprised at how large it was. She'd never needed to visit before but her childhood education of the Southern Water Tribe hadn't described the village as anything but peasantly and drab. It seemed that they had overcome the Fire Nation raids and somehow rebuilt. The walls were blocking her view, but she could see the tops of glassy structures and could hear the loud chatter of the people living within.

There were two water tribe guards standing at the entrance, dressed in thick blue pelts and holding barbaric weapons made with what looked like sharpened bones and wooden clubs. She softened her eyes and curved her mouth into an innocent smile.

"Oh, h-hello," she stuttered softly, giving the guards a short bow.

"State your business," one ordered gruffly. She laughed awkwardly, her hands wringing with feigned nervousness.

"I'm just a traveler passing through. I'd like to restock on resources and rest before moving on," she explained, gesturing at her worn clothing and hoping they'd notice her dire need for a bath.

"We don't just let anyone in, girl," the same guard dismissed. The other hesitated, his expression kinder than his partners. His expression was cautious, but clearly more understanding. She used that moment, her voice becoming even smaller as she approached timidly.

"Please, I won't cause any trouble. I'm not a bender, just a girl from the Earth Kingdom exploring the world. I promise."

The second guard sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "The Chief did mention that the village needs more tourists," he reasoned. His partner huffed irritably and considered his words before waving a dismissive hand at Azula.

"Fine, whatever. But if she causes any problems, it's on you."

Azula bowed, her hair shielding her calculating smile. "Thank you. You won't regret it."

"What's your name, girl?"

She put her mask back on, the warm smile returning.

"Call me Song."

* * *

"We shouldn't be trading openly with the Fire Nation, Chief. Just because you're friends with the Fire Lord doesn't mean our people don't remember how the Fire Nation nearly wiped us out!"

Sokka rubbed his temples and shrunk inwardly at his right-hand advisor Hakan's words. There was unrest in the South Pole since his agreement to begin an uneasy alliance with the Fire Nation. His friendship with Zuko wasn't as well-received as he'd hoped it would be. His people were still hurt by what the Fire Nation had done to their land and their people.

As it stood today, the Southern Water Tribe was finally getting back on it's feet. Master Pakku had returned to the South and brought along several other members of the North to help rebuild. Gran Gran was beyond elated to have her grandchildren back home—well, at least one of them for the time being. Katara was off on a little vacation with Aang.

Soon after the end of the war, Sokka was appointed as the new Chieftain of the Southern Water Tribe under Hakoda's insistence that he was ready. He was still hesitant about the sudden promotion. He didn't feel ready—especially since his first real chiefly decision had brought upon so much unrest. These were his people and he needed to ensure their happiness and wellbeing, but at the same time he knew the South couldn't flourish if it was going to hold onto grudges from the past. He had support from his father and a few members of this council, but the people were beginning to openly voice their concerns about the Fire Nation "invading" their land again. It was all Sokka could do not to rip out his own hair explaining the need for this alliance, the need for a positive change.

There was an uncomfortable silence amongst his council upon Hakan's outburst. They shifted in their positions on the floor, watching Sokka with open curiosity. This was the first time any member of the council had so passionately raised their voice against the Chief. Hakoda had been a gentle leader, rarely ever butting heads with his council.

"Look, I get it," Sokka sighed, his eyes meeting every member with visible understanding.

"This wasn't a decision I made lightly just because Fire Lord Zuko and I are friends. The South can't continue to condemn an entire nation because of Ozai's tyrannical decisions. We need to move forward and the best way to that is to encourage our people to mingle and get to know the other nations."

Hakan huffed, shaking his head. "We're going to lose the South to the very people that destroyed us just years ago. I'm sorry, Chief, but I don't agree with this."

"And that's okay. I'm asking that you give my way a chance. If the open doors to the South bring more trouble than good, I promise that we will close our doors to the outside world."

There was a low grumble of agreeance amongst the men before Sokka moved into the next item on their agenda. Several hours later, Sokka was rubbing his sore behind and stretching his tight limbs after the conclusion of his final meeting. He was just beginning to settle into his role as Chieftain, but his least favorite thing about the job were the weekly meetings. He wanted to be with his people, help them rebuild, and watch them thrive.

He was just about to make his way towards Gran Gran's for lunch before he was stopped by Lakota, a veteran warrior who spent most of his days guarding the South's entrance.

"Whats up?" Sokka asked as the older man approached him, huffing from the jog into the heart of the village.

"Chief, I have good news!" he exclaimed between breaths. Sokka patted his back, waiting patiently for the news.

Lakota grinned and continued, "… we have our first visitor from the Earth Kingdom! Well, she's actually a traveling nomad, but she's originally from the Earth Kingdom. Her name is Song."

Sokka grinned widely. Yes! Finally, his people could get to experience someone that wasn't from their small village. "Where is she?" he asked, his excitement palpable. He had to make sure that this girl had a good experience in the South and would spread the word as she travelled along. It was important to make a good impression.

"Makya is leading her in now. She looks like she's been travelling for some time now, poor girl probably needs a good night's sleep and a hot meal."

Sokka was already heading back towards the entrance of the village to intercept the girl. The South was much smaller than the Earth Kingdom and didn't have amenities such as room and board for visitors yet, but he was going to insist the girl stay at Gran Gran's. There would certainly be room for her and that guaranteed she'd have warm meals and a kind face to greet her during her stay.

It only took a few minutes before he saw Makya's familiar face in the distance walking alongside a short, slim figure in a black coat. He waved an arm to catch his attention and closed the distance between them.

"Chief? This is a surprise."

Sokka chuckled and rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I heard we have a visitor. Wanted to say hello," he explained, before turning his attention to the girl. She was a frail thing, only coming up to his chest. The coat she had on was clearly too large for her. He made a note to make sure she was given something suitable for the harsh cold of the South. Katara had plenty of clothes left behind, but he suspected those might even be too big for Song.

Her head was bowed down, her hair shielding her face from his gaze. He chalked it up to her being shy and he stepped forward, thrusting a hand into her line of vision.

"Song, was it? I'm Sokka… uh, just wanted to say hello and welcome you to the South in person. We don't quite have room and board for visitors just yet, but I was thinking it would be great for you to stay with my Gran Gran. She makes the best sea prune stew!" he rambled, growing more nervous as the girl continued to stand quietly.

After a few seconds, she reached forward with a pale hand and grasped his, giving it a quick shake. Her voice was soft and timid, head still bowed lowly. "Thank you, Chief Sokka."

He resisted the urge to bow down and put his face right in front of hers so he could properly see what she looked like. "I'll lead her to Gran Grans from here," he said, dismissing Makya with a thankful pat on the back.

The warrior nodded and made his way back to guard the entrance, leaving the two alone. Sokka started walking, the girl trailing just slightly behind him, her gaze glued to her feet. He continued to ramble on to fill the awkward silence, hoping she'd come out of her shell.

"So I hear you've been travelling for a while. Where have you been recently?" he prodded, nodding at the tribespeople he passed by. They eyed the new stranger warily, whispering amongst themselves. He bit back the irritation in his gaze at them. They would have to becoming more accepting of outsiders. He wasn't going to give them a choice.

Song hesitated, her hands wringing nervously in front of her. She didn't have any rucksack or obvious travel items with her. Had she been wandering alone all this time?

"Yes. I've come from the Fire Nation, actually. I spent a year there."

That was vague. He pressed for more information.

"Oh, so you must have met Fire Lord Zuko! He's a good pal of mine," he said with a proudly, his eyebrows waggling at the girl. "My girlfriend Suki is one of the Kyoshi warriors stationed to protect him."

Sokka's heart squeezed at the mention of Suki. It had been so long since her last visit and he missed her dearly. The long-distance relationship was difficult, to say the least.

"You must miss her," Song commented quietly, dodging the topic of the Fire Lord and turning it back towards him. Sokka nodded sadly. He changed the subject, too dejected to talk more about his relationship. He didn't notice the calculating smile on Song's lips, nor the subtle redirection of the conversation.

He continued to ramble on, telling her about the new structures and help from the North to rebuild their land. There were more people moving from the North to the South now that they were getting back on their feet. The population was beginning to swell and more waterbending children had been born in the last year than they'd had in years. Song listened quietly, keeping her head bowed and staying right on Sokka's heels.

They were approaching Gran Gran's and he gave the door a quick knock before entering.

Gran Gran was perched over a fire with a large pot of boiling stew over it. She stirred it, not needing to look at the door to know Sokka had entered. "You're late," she admonished.

"Sorry, Gran Gran. We have a visitor. This is Song," he announced and she perked up, immediately turning her attention to the travel-worn girl on her doorstep. "I was hoping she could stay with you for the time-being, maybe in the guest hut?"

Gran Gran nodded right away, reaching withered old hands out to grasp Song's pale fingers. "Welcome to the South, my dear. You look like you need a hot meal… and something warm to wear. I have just the thing," she chuckled. "Let's get you settled in. Oh, and you can call me Kanna."

Song offered a short bow as thanks. Sokka eyed her curiously as Gran Gran shuffled around, prepping for the girls stay. He could see pale, unmarked skin through her veil of hair. She seemed so frail under those bulky clothes, as though she hadn't had a hearty meal in months or longer. If she'd spent the last year at the Fire Nation, she should be… healthier looking. The food in the Fire Nation was to die for and there was plenty of sunlight and people to socialize with. So why was she so reserved now? Why was she so thin?

There was a flash of gold as her eyes met his through her veil of hair. There was something unnervingly familiar about them, but he couldn't quite place it. His curiosity grew and he stepped closer to her, trying to get a better look at her face. He was just inches away, his head cocked to the side as he gazed harder.

He saw her visibly tense and then relax, as though whatever anxiety and shyness she'd had moments earlier vanished. She lifted her head, meeting his inquisitive eyes with a cold, piercing glare. He recognized those eyes—they were the same eyes that had nearly killed him more than once. Those eyes belonged to the woman that had kidnapped Suki and trapped her at Boiling Rock Prison. He hated these eyes who looked down on him now as though he were nothing but a tiny bug to squash.

_Fuck._

That was all he could think as he registered who was standing in front of him.

_Azula is here._

His breath hitched in his throat and he moved his mouth as if to say something, but nothing would come out.

_Azula is in the South, Azula is in Gran Gran's house, Azula is going to kill everyone._

He backed away several steps, bumping into the wooden table behind him and nearly knocking a chair over.

"Be careful, those things are older than you!" Gran Gran scolded, still busy preparing clothing and other things for Song—no, for _Azula_.

Sokka's head raced with the possible outcomes of this encounter. His first thought was to somehow get her outside and expose her identity, which would undoubtedly lead to a bloody fight in which he knew his men would be severely injured, or worse. He squashed that thought immediately, his mind defaulting to Master Pakku, wondering if the old waterbending master could take on Azula. He knew damn well he couldn't do this on his own.

_Why the fuck is she smiling like that—shit, SHIT, stop panicking you idiot!_

His hand moved towards the sword on his belt and Azula purposefully adjusted her gaze to flicker towards the old woman shuffling behind her, then back at Sokka. It was all he needed to take his hand off his weapon. Sweat beaded on his skin as they stood there, watching each other with wary recognition.

"Sokka, why don't you take Song to the back hut and show her around? I'll be over in a moment to draw her a hot bath—poor girl looks like she needs one."

Sokka tried to even out his breath as he laughed nervously and nodded, his eyes begging Azula not to hurt Gran Gran. "Right this way," he forced through gritted teeth, pointing her out the door.

Azula was calm, way too fucking calm for his comfort. She offered a soft, fake 'thank you' to Kanna before stepping out the door. He felt better now that she was out of the house, but only marginally.

"She's not wrong, you know. I do need a bath," Azula mused disinterestedly, eyeing the tiny ice hut behind the house. Sokka was quiet, stewing in his own stupidity for allowing this to happen. "What's wrong? Not happy to see me?"

She was taken aback when he grasped her wrist and yanked her towards the tiny hut, away from prying ears and eyes. "Unhand me, savage," she hissed. He was surprisingly strong, much stronger than the last encounter they'd had on the Day of Black Sun. Even with her bending disabled during the Eclipse just a year ago, she'd easily had the Avatar and his idiot friends running around like fools in search of her father. The peasant water tribe boy had been no exception.

She'd made a mistake. She realized that earlier when the warrior Makya led her through the gates only to be intercepted by the boy she'd completely forgotten about. He was so easy to forget—Katara's non bending idiot brother. She almost hadn't recognized him at all. He'd grown several inches taller and his boyish face had changed with him into adulthood. He was broader in the shoulders from what she could only assume was consistent training. The sword on his belt gave him away, no doubt crafted by Master Piandao himself. She'd always hated the master swordsman. He looked at her the same way her mother always had—like she was a monster. They weren't wrong, of course, but it still hurt.

How Sokka suddenly came into power as Chief of the South, she'd never know. Her plan to blend in with the village and wait for Katara's return was squashed the second she recognized him in the distance. The only way to get through this now was with deceit and false promises, and a lot of them. She had to play her cards right.

Sokka's iron grip on her wrist relented only when he'd nearly dragged her to the front of the ice hut. "You need to leave, now," he ordered lamely, pointing a finger back towards the entrance of the village. Azula burst into laughter, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.

"You're joking, right?"

Sokka unsheathed his sword, pointing it at her throat. "You _will_ leave, Azula. And you won't hurt anyone on your way out."

"Or what? You're going to call Zuzu and the Avatar to come save you from little old me?" she asked with a snake-like grin. "It would take at least two weeks for them to get here, peasant. How much chaos do you think I could create in that time? How many lowly savage lives can I take before I make my escape right before they arrive? You wouldn't want anything bad to happen to Gran Gran, would you?" Her voice grew soft at the end, dripping with feigned concern.

Azula smacked his sword dismissively out of her face and carefully examined the dirt under her nails. She felt the air shift from anger to fear as he realized what a disadvantage he was at. He was faltering.

"Don't underestimate me, Azula. I'm not the same kid anymore," he barked angrily. "We have waterbenders here that can take you, and our combined forces are more than enough."

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "You're a terrible liar."

There was a moment of silence, neither party backing down as Gran Gran emerged from her home and slowly shuffled towards them. Sokka was quick to sheath his sword, awkwardly explaining that he was showing Song the new sword Piandao had gifted him. Azula's hard gaze softened and she smiled warmly at Kanna, smirking openly at Sokka when the woman's back was turned to them.

Kanna led them inside the hut and gave Azula a brief tour of the tiny room, showing her how to light the fire and dropping off a new set of thick blue furs along with a jar of what Azula assumed was homemade soap for her bath. Kanna then moved towards the corner of the room where there was a lifted stone bath. She showed Azula how she warmed a bucket of stones at the fire before dropping them into the water to warm the bath.

"You should get in soon, dear. It always gets cold too fast. This darned weather makes it impossible to enjoy a long bath," Kanna groused, shaking her head disapprovingly. "And give her some privacy!" she scolded Sokka, giving him a good whack on the head.

Azula played along, giving Kanna warm thanks and promising to have dinner with them (to Sokka's blatant horror) later that evening. After the kind woman left, Azula's mask dropped and she yanked the oversized black coat off her body, tossing it carelessly on the ground. Sokka was still in the room, refusing to leave her on her own.

"Are you going to watch me take this bath?" she asked, grimacing at the thick layer of dirt accumulating on her green robes. She couldn't wait to get clean, even with the Chief of the Idiots breathing down her neck. The prospect of having a man watch her bathe wasn't foreign. The guards had always leered when she sponged off in her cramped icebox. At least this time she could be warm.

Sokka's face grew red at the notion and he turned his back to Azula, taking a seat in front of the fire. "I'm not going anywhere, Azula. I can't trust you to be alone with my people."

"Since you can't see me, I want you to know I'm rolling my eyes," she drawled before shrugging out of her disgusting robes and climbing into the bath. She shivered. Kanna was right, the bath was already getting cold. Luckily for her, it wouldn't be a problem.

Sokka listened to the sound of water splashing followed by the sound of Azula's hands slapping against the side of the bath to heat the rocks. "You haven't killed anyone yet. That means you have some plan. What do you want?" he asked bluntly.

She sighed contentedly in the freshly warmed water, dunking her hair back and letting the homemade soap Kanna gave her sluice away two weeks' worth of grime and sweat. It smelled surprisingly good and she briefly felt bad for threatening the woman's life earlier.

Sokka's question was the one she'd been asking herself. She didn't know the answer to it—not yet anyway. Her plans depended on whether he would allow her to stay. If he chose to expose her identity and force her into a fight, she'd have to make a break for it and find another place to hide and wait. But if she could get him to let her stay under the guise that she wouldn't cause any problems for the time being… well, then the original plan to slaughter Katara and retake her throne could work.

 _You know what you must do,_ Ozai hissed.

Azula closed her eyes, her head rolling back and resting on the edge of the bath. "Let's make a deal, peasant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all had a nice Labor Day weekend. I was able to crank this out on my extra day off :) 
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments/kudos and feedback!


	4. Deal

"Let's make a deal, peasant."

Sokka snorted and stared coldly into the roaring fire in the middle of the tiny hut where Azula, fugitive Princess of the Fire Nation, was trying to barter with him. He knew this woman well enough to know she was up to something sinister. He could barely keep his back turned to her, every frayed nerve screaming that she was going to slit his throat with those pointy fingernails before he could call for help.

He risked a glance back and was surprised to find her back facing him. She was standing in the bath, her upper body exposed while she ran soapy hands over her arms and front. He hadn't expected someone so strong to look so… frail. She was a shadow of the woman she used to be. Her frame was too thin and with her hair cropped at the shoulders he could clearly see long, silvery welts slashed across her back. Had she been tortured while imprisoned?

 _Those are old wounds,_ he realized. He didn't know how he felt about that. Azula, the cruel, egotistical woman who had nearly killed him and his friends on more than one occasion wasn't invincible. He briefly wondered if Ozai had dealt her these wounds, but immediately locked his curiosity away. This was Azula. It wasn't like she would ever give him a straight answer anyway. The twisting feeling of pity in his gut didn't go away.

His gaze lingered a split second too long. She'd caught him when her head turned to the side, catching him in her peripheral. He quickly swiveled his head back forward, feeling guilty for peeking at a woman bathe, even if that woman was a psychotic lunatic.

"I didn't peg you as a voyeur, _Chief_ ," she drawled, sinking back into the steamy water. "Tell you what, I'll let you ogle me every night at bath-time if you'll be so kind as to let me stay for a while."

When she was met with angry silence, she rolled her eyes and pressed on. "Look, I'm not going to hurt anyone. I don't have any good reason to, at least not for now. You're a man of strategy, peasant. Think about it. Attacking your little village would put me at a disadvantage."

She raised a brow, watching his tense form continue to stare into the fire. She continued.

"Besides, you wouldn't want to expose your first tourist in the South Pole to be Princess Azula of the Fire Nation, would you? You'd have a real riot on your hands," she mused. She watched his profile and smirked with satisfaction when his jaw clenched tightly.

"What's the end game, Azula? Why are you even here? You obviously escaped prison and could have chosen _anywhere_ to hide. Why the South Pole?"

She cursed internally. "I hear its lovely this time of year and wanted to visit," she replied innocently. The water was beginning to cool again.

Sokka listened to her wet footsteps as she climbed out of the bath. There was a sudden _whoosh_ of hot air and a content sigh. Her footsteps padded quietly across the hut towards the bed and then there was the shuffling of clothing. He was still half expecting her to kill him at any second.

"That's a lie and we both know it."

"Even if I told you the truth, you would think it's a lie. What's the point?"

Well, she wasn't wrong about that. Sokka grumbled lowly, feeling only slightly more comfortable. Several minutes had already passed and she hadn't lunged for his throat yet.

Azula shrugged into a thick blue parka and matching pants. They were a little large, but quite warm. She was surprised at how well the pelt was sewn together and even more surprised that she quite liked the color, despite always defaulting to red. She hadn't felt this clean and comfortable since before her capture. It put her in a good mood.

She turned around and slowly approached Sokka, slowing even more when he visibly tensed at her proximity. "Don't worry, I don't bite," she said darkly. "Hard."

She folded her legs and sat down beside him, also turning her gaze towards the smoldering flames in the middle of the room, soaking up the warmth. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes—well, comfortable for Azula. She could feel him scrutinizing her every movement, watching her like a hawk. She needed to find some way to appeal to him, some way to get him to think that she wasn't a psycho murderer who would slit the entire village's throats in their sleep.

 _You could do that, you know,_ Ozai whispered. _It would be so easy._

She ignored the enticing dark thoughts, choosing instead to see if she could manipulate Sokka in another way. If she couldn't scare him into letting her stay, perhaps she could appeal to a softer side.

"I just want to be free. I am a fugitive now, an outsider to my own people. I have no home, no family, and no friends."

She didn't break her gaze from the dancing fire.

"You did that to yourself," Sokka replied. His voice had a hard edge to it.

 _Keep going,_ Ozai whispered. _Tell the whelp about your sad childhood, about how the mother who thought you a monster abandoned you._

Ozai always had a way of twisting the truth into a heinous attack. It was hard to keep her anger in check. The fire in the room blazed brighter for a moment before she reigned in her emotions. Sokka was quick to reach for his weapon, but she responded in soft voice that made him pause.

"You're right."

There was a pregnant moment of silence before his jaw dropped and he gaped openly at her. Had she just admitted something he'd said was valid? The notion made him falter and he clamped his mouth shut, narrowing his eyes in scrutiny at her. "What did you say?"

" _You're right,_ " she repeatedly, more coldly this time. She didn't like admitting this, even if it was solely to garner sympathy from him. "I'm not oblivious to my faults, savage. I was holed up in an icy prison for a year. It gave me a lot of time to reflect."

Sokka's expression was still grim, but he pressed her for more information. "What are you trying to say?"

She paused.

This was the opportunity she'd been waiting for. He was a guarded person, rightfully so after the hell she'd put him and his imbecile friends through. Whatever she said next had to count. She dug deep, pushing past the darkness in her heart and finding the tiny lockbox that she kept hidden away, the box that held all her fears and uncertainty. It felt like every time she dug into this box, it buried itself deeper into her heart. She wondered when the day would come that she would reach for it and not be able to find it— the day it would be consumed by her own darkness.

"Azula?" Sokka called. Amber eyes met an icy blue stare. Azula reached into the box, pulling out a question that she'd been asking herself a lot during her isolation.

"Are monsters is deserving of love?" she asked, her question barely above a whisper.

Sokka opened his mouth, and then closed it. He didn't know how to answer her. He didn't even know how to process the strange pit of pity in his stomach. There was a flicker of foreign emotion when she posed her question.

 _She's hurting,_ he realized.

The recognition of her pain was sobering and had him reluctantly rethinking his feelings about who she was… who she _really_ was. From his talks with Zuko, he'd been under the impression that Azula was Ozai's favorite and was always rewarded everything she wanted. Zuko was adamant that Azula hated him and their mother simply because she was exactly like their father. There were clearly parts of Azula that were dark and cruel, but Sokka had never entertained the idea that she was anything but evil. He'd taken Zuko's words at face value and accepted them as the truth. The woman sitting beside him now made him question his friend, and he didn't like that feeling.

"Do you think you're a monster?" he asked in return, his tone not accusatory nor angry.

She turned her eyes back towards the fire, a smile on her mouth that didn't meet her eyes. "Would you believe me if I said no?"

Sokka paused, then answered truthfully. "No, I wouldn't."

The fire crackled lowly.

"I don't believe me, either."

They sat this way for several more minutes, both stewing in their own thoughts, one desperate to stay and the other on the cusp of allowing her to… all for the sake of his own curiosity. Sokka knew that this was just some ploy to make him feel bad enough to let her stay, but he had a gut feeling that it wasn't all just games and manipulation this time. The hurt he'd seen was real, no matter how much shit she buried it under. Something in him wanted to dig deeper and expose Azula—the real Azula.

He didn't know why but he wanted to feel the deep satisfaction of being the only person to uncover what was buried beneath all those layers of snarky wit and cruelty. Maybe it was his weakness for beautiful women, or his need to save the unsavable. Whatever the reason, he couldn't let this go. He'd just have to find a way to chip away at the walls she'd put up while figuring out why the hell she'd come to the South Pole in the first place.

 _Easier said than done, Captain Boomerang,_ he thought darkly. And since when had Azula pinged on his radar as beautiful? He turned his attention back to her. She bore an unreadable expression, still gazing into the fire. He could see the embers dancing in the reflection of those sharp, golden eyes. Had her skin always been this translucent, this incredibly fair? He deduced that she hadn't gotten much sunlight in her prison. Again, he felt pity swell in his gut.

Sokka made his choice. He had a feeling he would regret it later, but he made it anyway.

"How was the prison food?" he asked. "I don't imagine Zuko was sending cactus juice and fire flakes to you on the regular."

Her expression flashed with surprise before twisting into a scowl. "I was given enough to stay alive."

"Well, Gran Gran is more than likely going to try and fatten you up in the coming weeks."

Azula's face fell in shock before she quickly schooled her expression into an impassive gaze. "What are you trying to say, peasant?"

"I'm saying there's no way you'd be able to take me on, much less the entire tribe, considering you're skin and bones now, _Princess_ ," he drawled, raising a dark brow. "So let Gran Gran fatten you up and you can be on your merry way after you've recovered. No violence, no scheming, no trouble. Fair deal?"

Azula narrowed her amber eyes at his proposal, searching for the loophole. She ignored the odd tingle down her neck at the way he called her Princess. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, which made her stomach flip with uncertainty.

 _The whelp calls you Princess and you're weak in the knees? Don't let him mislead you. You will be Fire Lord Azula,_ Ozai whispered. She grounded her resolve into her father words, letting them guide her.

"No violence? No scheming? What do you take me for, Sokka?" she asked in a sweet voice laced with venom. When he responded with a glare, she continued.

"Give me your oath that you won't reveal my identity or whereabouts to the Fire Nation or the Avatar, not until I'm long gone. You can lie and tell them I fooled you into believing I was someone else."

Sokka was quiet, considering her request. She was banking on the Avatar and his wench to return before her supposed peaceful departure. She just needed Sokka to believe she was going along with his silly little proposal for the time being. All would be revealed when the time was right. And when the time was right, she was going to take back what was rightfully hers.

"What's wrong? Is that puny savage brain having a hard time wrapping around my demand?" she asked sharply. Her patience was wearing thin. She was tired, hungry, and desperately needed to rest.

Finally, he relented. "Deal," he said firmly. He yanked a glove off his hand and shoved it into Azula's face.

"You have my word, as the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, that I won't reveal your identity to Zuko or Aang until you're long gone. And you have to promise me you won't hurt my people during your stay."

Azula stared at the hand in her face, her lips curling with distaste.

"Shake on it, Azula," Sokka insisted.

She reluctantly curled her hand around his. Her fist felt tiny in his warm grip and she yanked away quickly after a brief shake, shoving her hand into the pocket of her new blue parka. Her skin tingled where he touched it and she flexed the digits inside the coat, passing it off as some adverse reaction to being quarantined in her prison for too long.

Sokka slipped his glove back on, making his way towards the exit. "I'm sure you want to get some rest before dinner. I promise I won't make an attempt on your life while you're sleeping."

Azula rolled her eyes. "Well, I don't know if I can keep that same promise."

Sokka halted, narrowing his eyes at her. She waved a dismissive hand. "It was a joke, peasant. You can laugh. It's funny."

"Ha. Ha."

His dry response was foiled by the smirk she caught on his mouth right before he departed from the tiny hut. Azula sighed, her nerves frayed, and body exhausted. She was thankful for Ozai's surprising silence. Perhaps he would settle with this outcome, at least for the time-being. She shut the door behind Sokka, watching him walk away through a small window. The room was silent now save for the low crackle of the fire which was beginning to go out.

She quickly put more firewood into the pit and took a quick scan of her surroundings to ensure she was alone before shooting a bright blue flame at the wood, setting it ablaze. The heat made her eyes even heavier and she yawned, retreating to the bed. She fell into a deep slumber as soon as her head hit the pillow, her dreams caught between the ever-looming presence of Ozai and a shadowy figure with strikingly light, icy blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I definitely struggled a little writing Sokka how I had envisioned him. I hope that his personality shines through and you're able to still see parts of his old self intertwining with his new role as Chief. If you have any feedback, please leave a comment. I'd love to hear your opinion!


	5. Guilt

A sharp rapping knock startled Azula out of her slumber. She snapped into a seated position, blue flames unfurling in her palms defensively as she fought to blink away the bleary sleep in her eyes.

It took several seconds for her to realize where she was. The room was pleasantly warm, the fire in the middle of the small hut still going strong. A glance out the window proved that night had fallen. The moon was high and bright tonight, reflecting off the frosty snow in an ethereal way. She couldn't deny the beauty of it, even through the haze of the small window.

The same sharp knock forced her attention to the door. She cleared her throat and put out her flames, smoothing down her wrinkled clothing and quickly running her hands through her cropped hair. She then realized she'd made a promise to have dinner with Kanna and had most likely slept through it. She squashed the guilt that bubbled in her grumbling belly. She didn't need to feel guilty—these weren't her friends or her family. Hell, she'd never felt guilty even when she _did_ have friends and family. So why did she now feel so bent out of shape for breaking a stupid promise to have dinner with a perfect stranger?

She gritted her teeth and stood up, taking an even breath.

 _You're in the South Pole. Your name is Song. Play your part,_ she whispered to herself. She stepped towards the door, plastering a warm smile on her face.

"I'm so sorry—did I miss dinner?" she asked as she swung the door open. Her smile dropped immediately when the Chief of the Idiots stepped in casually holding a tray of warm food. She took a quick glance outside and quickly shut the door behind him to lock the cold out. It was an unpleasantly familiar chill that she wasn't interesting in experiencing anytime soon.

"What, no smiles for me, _Song_?" he asked smugly. His expression grew uneasy when met with Azula's icy glare.

"I see you've come to serve me, peasant," she replied impassively, wiping her expression clean of emotion. She couldn't get him get the best of her.

"Sokka," he corrected, placing the tray of food by the fire to keep it warm. "I'm the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, Azula. You can at least call me by name."

Azula eyed the tray warily, taking a seat by the fire to warm back up.

"The leader of peasants is still a peasant."

"Is a fugitive princess still a princess?"

Azula shot him an irritated glare, but her hunger urged her to let this battle go. She was less tired now and more alert to his movements. She watched him with sharp eyes as he took a seat beside her. He scooted the tray of food between them and she eyed it suspiciously again. Had he poisoned it? It would be an easy way to dispose of her. No mess, no violence. He could bury her body out in the fucking snow and let Zuko find her, let him believe that she hadn't survived the bitter cold.

 _The whelp is not on your side,_ Ozai hissed.

"I didn't poison it," Sokka answered her unasked question. She looked away from the tray, beyond irritated that her stomach wouldn't stop gurgling and even more outraged that the peasant seemed to be in tune with her thoughts. She took pride in her ability to hide her sentiments, to lie, to deceive. For him to be able to seemingly read her mind and feel out her emotions… it was unnerving. Her stomach growled loudly again, and she glanced back at the tray.

There was a large pot of some strange looking stew and two large servings of steamed fish beside it. There was also a pot of fragrant rice and a small assortment of sides that she knew wasn't native to the South. She recognized the fire flakes immediately. The tray also held two small, empty bowls with utensils. Sokka picked a bowl up and ladled the stew into it, taking a long sip and sighing contentedly.

"It won't taste good if you let it go cold," he warned, already helping himself to rice and the variety of sides.

Azula's hunger won over as soon as she watched him take several large bites. She filled her bowl quietly and they ate in silence for several minutes. He was right about the soup not being good after it cooled. He said nothing when she placed her hand on the pot and had the stew bubbling again in seconds. It was surprisingly comfortable silence, neither of them finding the need to fill the gap with mindless chatter. Azula was thankful for it, though she'd never admit that she could barely hold a normal conversation without becoming hostile or manipulative.

She'd never shared a meal with anyone other than her family, either. She spent her childhood sharing meals with father, mother, and her brother. After Ursa's disappearance, Zuko spent less and less time with her. She couldn't blame him as she spent every waking moment ensuring his life was as miserable as she could make it. As she grew older, the meals with her father became few and far between. She ate most of her meals alone towards the end of Ozai's rule, with only fearful servants and advisors at her side.

It was a strange exchange now, digging into the same rice and fish with someone so unfamiliar to her. It was even more strange to know that this man didn't outwardly cower in her presence. If he had any fear of her, he was good at hiding it.

She cast a glance at the seasoned warrior, following the curve of his thick brows to his icy blue eyes, down his nose and across his defined, tanned jawline. In this moment, and this moment alone, Azula admitted to herself that the peasant was pleasing to the eye. But he was just that—a peasant. Not worth her time, nor her attention. But looking was harmless, wasn't it? She reasoned with herself while her eyes began trailing down his neck, where smooth tan skin hid beneath a thick layer of pelt and furs.

She averted her gaze back to her bowl before he could catch her. The fire was dangerously low again. Sokka was quick to throw a few more logs on and she took the liberty of setting them ablaze. They continued their silent meal and her thoughts drifted again, wandering back to the past.

Life was easier before Zuko's banishment. She was Ozai's favorite, after all. Zuko would take all the berating from their father and Ozai praised her. She was a child prodigy. She was the master bender and martial artist that Ozai wished Zuko had become. She didn't need to be scolded, tutored, or punished for her shortcomings like her brother. But that also meant Zuko got all the attention from their mother that she craved. Ursa was always there, nursing Zuko's wounded pride, helping him back up on his feet after every beating. Ursa cared for him in ways that she'd never cared for Azula before. She struggled to recall even one moment where her mother held her close, or whispered how much she loved her like she had for Zuko. Azula didn't cry like Zuko had when Ursa disappeared. She wasn't even sad. She felt satisfied, in fact. Good riddance to the mother who thought of her as a monster.

After Zuko's exile, the relationship between Azula and her father changed. There was no one left for Ozai to punish, and suddenly there was so much pressure on her to be the best—to do more, to be better. So that's what she did. She clawed her way to the top, bended until her fingers bled and she could conjure lightning, trained until she had mastered every form of martial arts in the books, studied so hard she could recite books from memory. She led military fleets under ruthless dictatorships, was the right hand to her father, and was in line to be the next in power.

All that work… and for what?

To share a meal in the fucking South Pole with a man she barely knew, who had zero trust in her, and would most likely betray her to her own brother? All that work to become a fugitive and watch her weaker, idiot brother rule the Fire Nation from afar? _Fuck. That._

She wanted to scream.

 _Getting sentimental, daughter?_ Ozai asked darkly. _You were a gifted child. I didn't need to watch you constantly. You were exactly what I needed you to be. You were perfect. Until you weren't._

 _Right… perfect. The ideal child, who needed nothing because she could already do everything. I didn't need you, or mother, or Zuko. In fact, I don't need you now. So why are you still here?_ Azula asked. She was seething with unhinged rage, her hands itching to destroy something.

_You do need me, Azula. Why else would I be here?_

"Did you miss the fire flakes? They're my favorite," Sokka asked, breaking her tense internal monologue with Ozai. She responded with a fiery glare, still reeling with anger from her remembrance of the past and Ozai's jarring laughter in her ear.

"I see Zuzu has been openly trading our goods. I hope he didn't get this disgusting stew in return," she spat, slamming her bowl onto the tray and pushing it away.

"Hey, Gran Gran makes the best sea prune stew in the South!" Sokka argued, quickly gulping down the last of the soup before putting his own empty bowl down. He settled comfortably on the ground, his legs splayed out while he patted his full stomach. If he could sense her rage, he didn't make it known.

Azula paused, remembering her promise to Kanna and the strange guilt she felt. She turned her nose into the air and shifting her body away from Sokka so he couldn't see her face.

"Tell Kanna that Song said her stew was delicious. And that Song will have dinner with her tomorrow evening."

"You mean Song is going to have dinner with Gran Gran and me. 'Cause I eat with her every night," Sokka corrected, propping himself up on his elbows and flashing a pearly white grin. Did that mean the idiot had skipped dinner with his grandmother so that he could eat with her? Another wave of guilt washed over Azula and it was nauseating.

"Whatever, peasant. Just tell her that Song said she was sorry for missing dinner tonight, understood?!"

Sokka paused, tilting his head to the side. "Does Song feel guilty, or does Azula feel guilty?"

He hadn't realized he'd pushed too far until it was too late. He could feel the heat radiating off her, fueled by his triggering question. "Wait a minute now, Azula. I didn't mean—"

He narrowly dodged a small blue fireball that blazed by his head. "Hey!" he exclaimed, whipping his head around to watch it fizzle out before it hit the wall of the hut. He was agile enough to dodge two more fireballs, these ones aimed at his torso. The realization of her weakened state and his own skills brought a crooked grin to his lips. That only pissed her off more.

He was playing with fire and he knew it, but he'd done his own training in the last year as well. Azula didn't know that he'd spent several months training with Master Piandao, honing his sword mastery and hand to hand combat. She didn't know that Aang and Katara had continually sparred with him when they visited the South Pole, and when they had to leave for Aang's avatar duties he'd find a sparring partner in Master Pakku, or his father. Oh, it wasn't without moaning and groaning, sleepy mornings, and constantly aching muscles—but in this moment, he couldn't be more thankful that he'd mastered his craft.

"I thought we made a truce. No violence, remember?" he reminded while narrowing dodging another small blast of blue flames. He moved in slowly, using the fancy footwork that Piandao had taught him. Azula was tiring, her movements becoming sloppier with each lob of fire.

"I promised not to hurt your people, I never promised not to roast you where you stand, you infuriating imbecile!" she screeched. He was closing in quickly, within arm's reach. She threw a fiery fist and he caught her by the wrist, pushing her arm above her head only to be surprised by her knee slamming into his gut. He grunted and caught her leg, gripping it tightly as he grappled her to the ground. He was quick to pin her other arm before she could let loose another fiery punch and straddled her waist. She was bucking violently below him and had she been at full strength he wouldn't have been able to hold her there. His sheer weight alone was pinning her tiny frame to the ground.

"Get the fuck off me!" she demanded.

"Not until you calm down," he grunted, trying not to crush her with his weight while keeping her pinned down. After a few moments of struggle, he felt her relax beneath him, her body going limp. She was breathing hard, her head to turned to the side, golden eyes glued to the wall.

"Look, I didn't mean to say that before. Well, I didn't mean to make you feel bad, I guess. Shit, I'm just trying to say I'm sorry—ack!" he gasped when realized that Azula had somehow managed to curl her bottom half upwards and grip his neck between her legs, violently pulling him backwards towards the ground. His legs instinctively wrapped around her middle to try and gain leverage, even as she tightened her thighs around his throat. She sat up, looking down on him with a satisfied smirk.

"Having a hard time breathing, savage?" she asked, her legs locked securely around his throat. She watched him struggle to break out of her grasp while trying to unhinge his thick legs from her waist. Her back was aching with the pressure of holding herself and his lower half up. "You're fucking heavy," she grunted.

"Truce," Sokka wheezed, holding his hands up in the air in submission. At this rate they were both going to pass out from the exertion. Azula relented, her aching back begging her for relief. She released her lock on his throat and felt his legs go slack around her. They both sagged back onto the ground, not bothering to untangle their limbs as they tried to slow their breathing. Azula found it oddly warm, and somehow not an unappealing feeling. She tried not to think too far into it. Ozai was already ranting about how she should have 'killed the whelp' and set the village on fire.

She was the first to push her knee into his ribs, rudely signaling him to get the fuck off her. Sokka grunted and rolled away, finally pushing up into a seated position on the floor. "I meant what I said. I didn't mean to make you feel guilty."

Azula rolled her eyes. She glued her eyes to the ceiling, listening to him climb to his feet and refusing to acknowledge his apology. "I'm tired. Get out."

She heard a soft sigh followed by the clinking of bowls and cups as he collected the food tray off the ground and headed to the door to make his departure. She was reminded of her broken promise to Kanna, her suddenly sickening guilt, and Sokka's triggering question.

Who was guilty—Song or Azula? Was her culpability just a manifestation of the girl she was impersonating, or was this guilt truly her own? The thin lines holding her frail mental health together were beginning to fray. How much longer could she keep up this ruse whilst entertaining the booming voice of her father in her head? How many days would it take before the lines snapped and she lost herself to her own mind?

It was too much. Azula couldn't stop the swelling of tears, nor the man who was suddenly kneeling at her side. She flinched when his hand gingerly brushed across her cheek. What the fuck was this? He had no reason to want to help her. In fact, if she were in his place, she would have jumped at the opportunity to slaughter a weakened opponent. The only explanation was that he was toying with her now, waiting to see how she would react so he could use it to his advantage later. That's what she would do.

"Don't," she choked out in a trembling voice. "Just get out."

"I don't think you want to be alone, Azula. Even if you say you do," he responded in a subdued tone. Before she could protest, she felt strong arms lifting her from the ground. Her body felt like rubber, so disgustingly weak and frail. Even worse was how fucking warm his body was, even through the thick furs of his clothing. She was leaning into him before she could stop herself, letting him cradle her like someone who actually cared about her well-being—like someone who gave a fuck about who she was. Even if this was all a ruse and he ended up betraying her later, she couldn't find it in her to push him away.

She felt her back sit the soft bed and watched silently as he pulled the covers over her, then reclaimed his place by the fire. "Sleep," he ordered. "I'll be here when you wake."

"I don't want you here."

She intended it to sound spiteful, but her voice was hoarse and trembling. There was no response.

Her eyes were already incredibly heavy. She blinked blearily at him, her mind right on the edge of sinking into unconsciousness. She shouldn't feel this comfortable. She shouldn't trust him. She shouldn't be able to fall asleep so quickly with this lowborn stranger watching over her. And yet…

"Sokka?"

"Hm?" he responded, his body laid out comfortably in front of the fire. He turned those too-fucking-blue eyes to meet hers. There was a faint smile on his lips and she almost wanted to return one of her own. How in Agni's name had she gone from nearly killing the idiot to calling him by name? How could he make her so infuriated in one instance and then turn around and give her a smile that warm? She couldn't understand it.

"I feel guilty."

"What?" he asked, brows knitted together in confusion.

"Song doesn't feel guilty—I do."

Sokka didn't respond immediately. She watched through lidded eyes as settled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "Sleep, Princess."

She let the sound of his even breathing lull her into a deep, dreamless slumber.


	6. Discovery

"She's not in Ba Sing Se, Zuko. Ty Lee and I combed through every street, followed every lead we could. She isn't there."

Zuko ran his hands through his hair in frustration, pushing the long locks out of his face. He slumped into a chair in his chambers and squeezed his eyes shut. He'd been so sure that Azula would flee to the Earth Kingdom, so sure that they would be able to find her before anyone was hurt.

"Where else could she be, Zuko?" Suki asked softly. She had just returned with Ty Lee from the Earth Kingdom. They'd been searching for over a week now and had come up empty handed.

"Why did you suspect she was in Ba Sing Se?" she pressed when he didn't respond.

"Because if I was in Azula's position, that's where I would go."

Suki paused, thinking over his words.

"And you don't think Azula is smart enough to realize that _you_ would know this, and make her way somewhere else?" she ventured.

Zuko also quieted, considering her musings. She wasn't wrong… Azula had always been deceptively good at reading him. She was always two steps ahead and it had taken all their combined efforts to get her locked away. The only reason why he'd even won their Agni Kai was because she'd lost her mind and he'd had Katara at his side. But at full power, at full awareness… Azula wasn't someone he would willingly face again alone.

"Where else would she go, if not Ba Sing Se?" Zuko asked aloud, more to himself than Suki. If it was him, he'd hide where it was so populated, they would never be able to find him. But considering Suki's words, he found himself wondering if Azula had gone somewhere none of them would ever suspect. He would bet his crown on Azula showing up sooner or later to claim her right to the throne, but there had to be more than that. He wasn't alone in their Agni Kai. He wasn't even the person to defeat Azula. That win was solely Katara's.

His face twisted in horror.

"I know where she is, and what she's planning," he answered.

"And what would be where…?" Suki urged.

"She's in the South Pole. She's waiting for Katara to return so she can exact her revenge… and then she's coming for me."

"No," Suki gasped. Sokka flashed in her mind and she felt like someone had punched her in the gut. "Sokka is there. He won't—they won't survive if she attacks!"

"Suki, this isn't the time to panic. They're going to be okay. I know Azula well enough to know that she wouldn't attack the entire village unless she was backed into a corner. She's a master manipulator."

Suki tried taking slower breaths, but Zuko's words brought her little comfort. "We have to send word to the South. We have to warn them!"

Zuko nodded in agreement. "I'll send an eagle hawk out right away. It's almost been two weeks since her escape. She's probably just arriving now."

"How long will it take to get there?"

"If we take the fastest fleet, about a week and a half. They'll be on their own with her until then."

Suki took another deep breath to calm her frayed nerves. "Zuko… what if she hurts someone? What if she hurts Sokka?"

Zuko didn't know what to say. The guilt was eating at him and he pulled Suki into a tight hug. This was his fault. He hadn't had tight enough security around Azula. He should have known better. He should have known she would snake her way out sooner or later.

Suki was crying into his chest, sobs wracking her body. He gritted his teeth, rubbing her back and offering what little comfort he could. "Sokka is going to be okay, Suki. I promise you we will find Azula and everything is going to be fine."

Suki pulled away, rubbing at her red-rimmed eyes. "What about Aang and Katara? We have to tell them, too."

Zuko nodded grimly.

"Looks like their vacation is getting cut short. Tell Ty Lee to get some rest. We're leaving in the morning."

* * *

Sokka's back was more sore than usual. He groaned and shifted on his bed—no, that wasn't his bed. It was too hard, too unforgiving. And fuck, it was cold. Hadn't he rekindled the fire last night before he went to sleep? He drifted between sleep and consciousness, trying to recall where he was while clinging to rest at the same time.

_Mmnnhh, okay. Last night. What did I do last night? Should just sleep more and think about it later. Ugh, okay. What happened last night? I met up with Gran Gran, ate dinner with her—no, wait. I didn't have dinner with Gran Gran. She pushed me out the door with a tray for Song. Right, Song… Song…_

_Fuck._

Sokka's eyes snapped open and he jolted into a sitting position on the cold, hard ground. The sun hadn't come up yet and he squinted his eyes in the dark and made out Azula's shape sleeping on the bed nearby. He watched the steady rise and fall of her breathing and silently thanked the spirits she hadn't awoken before him. He didn't have faith she wouldn't try and kill him for what he pulled last night.

_The fuck was I thinking?_ He argued with himself as he quietly moved to rekindle the fire to warm the frigid air in the hut. He should have just left after their confrontation the night before. It was clear to him that Azula wasn't okay. He never knew when his words would take her from sly bantering to unbridled rage. Her emotions were volatile and confusing, and there were moments when she seemed to drift away, lost in her own thoughts. Dinner last night was almost nice until he'd tried to initiate conversation with her, and small talk suddenly turned into a pair of strong thighs choking him out into submission. She was dangerous, unstable, and incredibly broken.

He should have left when she'd told him to.

But right as he was about to leave, he'd heard her stifled whimper. He'd seen tears shimmering in those deep amber eyes, and he couldn't stop his legs from moving of their own volition to her side.

It was all he could do not to sweep her into his arms and tell her it would be okay when he didn't know if she'd ever be okay. He'd settled on carrying her to bed, tucking her in, and promising to stay until morning. There was no way she could be faking the hurt. Even she wasn't that good an actress… right? The rational part of him told him not to trust her.

_Azula always lies._ Zuko's words rang loudly in his head.

The fire crackled back to life and Sokka took a seat in front of it, pulling off his gloves and rubbing his hands together to warm them up. The sun was just beginning to break now, dim light filtering into the hut from the small window by Azula's bed. He glanced down at her only to find calculating amber eyes watching him in return. How long had she been awake? He cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the fire.

"Good morning."

Azula said nothing, pushing the covers off and sitting up. He was still sleepy just minutes prior, but his nerves stood on end now. She looked alert, supremely aware of their situation, and he found her silence to be even more ominous than her insults and spite. She stood and he took another sideways glance at her, tensing when she stepped closer.

"I'm not sorry for last night!" he blurted, wincing at the strike he knew was coming. But nothing came.

When he opened his eyes, she was gone. The door was ajar and there was a trail of fresh imprinted snow leading away from the hut. What else could he do, but follow? He shuffled to his feet and exited the hut after her, careful to shut the door quietly and avoid waking Gran Gran. This would be an inopportune time for her to catch them coming out of the hut together.

He watched curiously as Azula trudged east, out towards the border of the walls surrounding the village. It was too early for anyone to be awake yet, save for the guards posted at the walls. Was she leaving? He halted, torn between letting her go and asking her to stay. If she decided that it was time to leave, it would probably be best for the entire tribe. They would be out of danger and he could go on pretending that he and Azula had never entertained this strange exchange of fire and ice. He could pretend to keep believing she was evil, and that she deserved everything that was coming to her. He could pretend he hadn't seen her cry, hadn't held her tiny frame in his arms, and pretend he wasn't developing this strange, foreign attraction to her. And yet…

He followed.

Azula was moving faster than he'd thought and she hit the walls before he could catch up. There was a brief exchange with Makya and Lakota at the walls where he caught her flashing a brilliantly warm smile and sharing a quick laugh before continuing to venture out further. Moments later he was at the entrance as well. The warriors perched at the entrance perked up, greeting the Chief a good morning.

"Fellas," Sokka greeted. "Any idea where our guest of honor is heading?"

The warriors shared a glance between each other and then answered in near unison. "She said she wanted fresh air, Chief."

"Looks like she's heading towards the river. Could be dangerous out there, been seeing a handful of polar leopards on our latest hunts. She insisted she could take care of herself… charming girl, that Song," Lakota added. Makya grunted in agreement, his hard exterior seemingly softened by Azula's false warmth and kindness. Sokka couldn't blame them. The mask she wore was near flawless, with picture perfect acting and a laugh that could warm over the entire South Pole. He wondered where she'd taught herself to laugh like that and if at any point in her life that laughter had been real.

Sokka muttered his thanks and followed her tracks, unaware of the curious glances from the guards who had never seen him show this much interest in a member of the opposite sex before, save for Suki.

Sokka broke into a jog to catch up to Azula. How she moved so quickly he couldn't fathom. By the time he spotted her, he was huffing from the effort. She was the picture of calm, on the other hand. Not a hair out of place, not gasping for air like he was. He made a mental note to get in a sparring session later in the day. Keeping up with Azula was at the top of his list of things to do.

His breath slowed as he approached her. She was facing the rising sun, her eyes closed as if absorbing the heat from it. In this icy tundra he didn't know that he could even really feel the warmth from the sun at all. The air was bitterly cold, and his cheeks already felt numb, but the sensation wasn't unfamiliar. This was what he grew up in and he'd learned to love it.

Sokka slowed to a stop when he was several feet away. Azula had ripped her gloves and parka off, leaving her wrapped in a short sleeve tunic that clung to her thin frame. Her arms were outstretched to the sides, palms faced upwards. She inhaled deeply. Upon exhale, thick blue fire expelled from her breath, billowing up into the sky before the cold air whisked it away into nothingness.

_She's beautiful._

This was all he could manage to think while watching the rising sun kissed her pale skin, granting her power and life. She was stronger now than she was last night, this much he was certain of. Blue flames unfurled in her palms and he could feel the heat from where he stood. It was almost too warm and made him sweat. He shrugged out of his own fur and pulled off his gloves, bristling at the powerful heat expelling from the master firebender and thanking the spirits that she hadn't flayed him alive the night before.

Her eyes opened, bright gold and alert. And holy fuck, they were on him. Her expression was impassive, void of any emotion when their eyes met. He'd give anything to see into that mind, if only for a moment.

Before he could say a word, her hand extended, palm up. Her fingers curled in once, beckoning him forward. He recognized the hunger in her eyes when her stance widened. She curled her fingers in again, daring him to come closer. She was asking him silently for a spar, but it felt like more than that. This wasn't a fight he could win physically. He was outmatched and they both knew it. He suspected that no length of training would he ever be enough to meet her level of expertise. He'd seen it firsthand on more than one occasion. He'd faced her when he'd escaped Boiling Rock Prison with his father and Suki in tow. Even with Zuko by this side then, they'd struggled to gain the upper hand. She was ruthless and unforgiving in combat, dangerous from afar and deadly in hand to hand combat.

A year ago, he'd been terrified of Azula. He'd known her as the epitome of evil, second only to her crazy father. She'd kidnapped and locked up his father and Suki and on more than one occasion tried to slaughter them all. So why was it different this time? He didn't feel fear. What he felt bordered closer to excitement—eagerness, even. Eagerness to try and understand her. To attempt to delve into the tall, impenetrable walls of her heart. Was this her way of communicating to him what she couldn't say aloud?

There was absolutely no chance of him coming out of this unscathed. And yet…

He stepped closer, drawing his sword from its sheath. The weight of it was familiar and he curled his fingers around the hilt, letting the blade become an extension of his arm. The acceptance of the invitation brought a flicker of a smile to Azula's lips, but it was fleeting.

The danced in a circle, mirroring the others footwork. Sokka's heart was thumping hard in his chest and he waited for her to make the first move. It was easier to dodge her than to attack and get caught in her fury. Her burning gaze never left his, even when she began charging at him full speed. He was quick enough to dodge a swift left hook and he pushed an elbow down to avoid the knee coming up into his gut. But she was fast—so fucking fast. He was lucky that her hands weren't lit in flames. They were like lightning striking at his upper body. The punches alone weren't particularly powerful, but in such quick succession he could feel pain blossoming in his chest. He grunted, using the hilt of his sword to jab into her ribs.

Azula gasped, gripped her ribs, and shot a deathly glare at his sword. He thumbed the hilt with a lopsided grin, carelessly waving the sword about in the air. She was on him faster than he'd anticipated. She was airborne, strong legs throwing bruising kicks at his midsection. He kept up with most of them, blocking what he could and grunting in pain when they landed. He waited for the right time and when it came, he caught her leg under his arm, holding it there. She flailed for a moment only to quickly recover and spring off her free leg, her lithe body bending with precision mid-air to aim her foot right at his head.

He dropped his sword, barely blocking the foot coming at his face before it could make contact. Her expression was still cool, but her eyes were lit with an emotion he couldn't read.

"Fight. Back."

Her order only made him tighten his hold on her leg. He took a step back, yanking her forward and pulling her off balance. Azula stumbled, her hands instinctively reaching forward to steady herself. His breath hitched when they landed on his bare shoulders, their bodies just inches away from touching. Her hands were incredibly warm and soft, these tiny hands that could kill him in an instant. The thought had his stomach curling in anticipation. She could do it now if she wanted to—she could set him alight and watch him burn. But instead, he watched her grit her teeth and violently push him away, her leg still caught under his strong hold. What desire she had to fight before had vanished. He saw her face flash with wide-eyed surprised before schooling back into a stoic glare.

"We're done," she hissed. "Release me."

Sokka was reluctant to let her go, on the brink of asking her why she hadn't singed all his hair off and danced around the pyre. He decided to let it go. She backed away several paces when she was freed, her eyes avoiding his. He picked up his fallen sword, sliding it back into its sheath and following her to retrieve their coats.

The silence was stifling.

He'd hoped that entertaining her spar would reveal more about her, but he was only more confused. Why hadn't she bended? Why had she stopped the fight when he knew she could have easily overpowered him?

He shrugged into his fur and slipped his gloves back on, watching her do the same and again face the sun. It was above the horizon now, rising steadily and washing the sky with brilliant shades of orange. Sokka sighed. It was nearly time for his morning meetings.

"Gran Gran will be awake soon, and she'll be looking for you."

Azula only nodded once and he tried to meet her eyes, but she turned her gaze to the river. She had that look on her face again, that strange expression where she was stewing in her own thoughts, as if too consumed by her mind to concentrate on anything else.

"Hey… are you okay?"

"I'll be along in a moment," she snapped, dismissing him. Sokka tried not to recoil at her sharp tone. He sighed, running a gloved hand over his hair whilst contemplating on whether he should cancel his meetings so he could continue his investigation on Azula's intentions. If he was being honest with himself, his initial desire to discover her master plan was becoming less important to him than figuring out the complex cogs of her mind, and what it was that triggered her. If he could just get her to open up even a little, he would have the answers to all his burning questions.

No matter, it had only been a day since her arrival. He was guessing she'd stick around for at least a couple of weeks to recover her strength before moving on as they had agreed. He had time and that gave him some small amount of comfort.

"I'll see you for dinner, 'Zula."

She waved another hand dismissively at him, but not before he caught the flicker of a smile on her lips. He couldn't understand the foreign sensation of his warmth in his chest at the sight, nor fight back his own lopsided grin.

Sokka trudged back towards the entrance to the village and was surprised to find Makya and Lakota waving at him urgently. He broke into a jog to meet them. Lakota was holding a white scroll with a familiar red seal on it. Sokka's heart dropped into his stomach. That was the seal of the Fire Nation—the seal of the Fire Lord.

"Chief, Fire Lord Zuko's personal eaglehawk just delivered this message addressed to you, and you alone… it seems urgent," Lakota explained, pushing the scroll into Sokka's hand. Sokka cleared his throat and awkwardly waved the scroll around jokingly.

"Ah, yeah. Poor guy's always sending me letters 'cause he needs advice on, uh, trade stuff. It's probably not urgent."

Sokka hurried away, leaving the guards with puzzled expressions.

He rushed back through the village towards his own hut, barely acknowledging the greetings from the early risers. When he was finally alone, he unraveled the scroll and read:

_Sokka,_

_Azula has escaped from prison. I suspect she is heading towards the South Pole. By the time this reaches you, she may already be there. Keep an eye out and if you find her, don't make it known. We're on our way. Estimated arrival in one week._

_\- Zuko_

Sokka read the scroll again and again, not wanting to believe the horrible position he'd found himself in. He could feel he was on the verge of a breakthrough with Azula. He had just a week to either let her be captured upon Zuko's arrival or warn her and let her go free. The fact that he was even _considering_ allowing her to flee was troubling him. She'd been nothing but spiteful and volatile since her arrival. There was no reason why he shouldn't just carry on believing that she was evil, that all she would do is lie to him and manipulate him. There was no reason why he shouldn't just let them come and take her, ensuring the safety of his people and his own life. So why was his gut telling him that it wasn't the right thing to do?

A loud knock on the door broke him from his jumbled thoughts. He tucked the scroll into his pants and opened the door to find the council at his door.

_Oh shit, the morning meeting._

He channeled Azula, schooling his expression into one of pleasantry. "Good morning. Please, come in."

It was going to be a long fucking day.


	7. Peace and War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. I just got married and the last couple months have been hectic with planning, then re-planning, then re-planning again because of COVID regulations. I finally found some time to get this chapter done. I'll try and have more steady uploads for the coming chapters.

Aang wasn't surprised to receive a scroll from a Fire Nation eaglehawk whilst sunbathing on the sandy beaches of Ember Island. It was probably just Zuko checking in to see how they were doing. It had been a week since their arrival on and every day had been absolute bliss. It was a relief to be away from his duties as Avatar and finally spend some alone time with the woman he was hoping to marry one day. He could hear Katara laughing in the warm waters of the ocean and splashing as she swam around.

"How nice of Zuko to check on us," he commented, sinking back onto the straw mat on the sand and getting comfortable. When he casually unrolled the scroll and read Zuko's neat scrawl, he nearly choked on the coconut water he'd been sipping on. "K-Katara!" he gasped, a whoosh of bended air pushing him into an upright position. He read the letter again, hoping he'd misread the first time. Katara was by his side in an instant, concern etched on her face. She was dripping wet from her swim in the ocean. With a flick of her wrist, she bended the water off and plopped down by Aang. She eyed the scroll in his hands warily.

"What is it?"

Aang pushed the scroll into her hand and whistled for Appa. The sky bison was resting with Momo on the beach nearby and lazily groaned at Aang's beckon, but stood and made his way over to them slowly. Just seconds later, Katara gasped in horror. Aang didn't want to look at her expression.

"Azula's in the South Pole! Sokka—Gran Gran—we have to go, Aang!"

She was panicking and Aang clenched his fists in anger. "I know. Zuko is waiting for us. Let's go."

In what felt like seconds, they were packed up and departing their sunny haven, leaving the sandy beaches and warm water in the distance. Katara was quiet. Too quiet.

Aang knew she was panicking. Her blue eyes were glued to the horizon towards their destination. Her face was etched with worry that rivaled his own and his heart clenched with anxiety. Just as things were finally becoming peaceful amongst the kingdoms, the only person that posed an actual threat had escaped. How had Azula escaped right under their noses? He felt like a fool. Katara's shaky voice broke him from his dark thoughts.

"Aang, this whole week I've been sitting on a sandy beach, sipping drinks and relaxing while Azula is out there… hurting the people we love."

"You don't know that! Don't blame yourself. Sokka is strong, he wouldn't let Azula hurt anyone. Have faith."

Aang felt Katara shudder under his arms when he pulled her into a tight hug. He could feel hot tears soaking through his thin robes and he rubbed her back as comfortingly as possible. After a few minutes her crying slowed and she suddenly stiffened. He looked down at her with warm gray eyes. "Katara?"

Her face had twisted from concern and worry into one of anger and resolution. He didn't like it.

"I should have taken care of her when I had the chance. I won't make that mistake again."

He knew better than to try and argue with her, despite the unpleasant tingle down his spine from the murderous look in her eyes.

* * *

Kanna was annoyingly observant. The old woman had been prodding Azula, no… _Song_ , with questions while assigning morning chores before breakfast. The tiny hut she lived in was icy cold. The fire from the night before was dim in the center of the room, barely clinging onto life.

"So, tell me about your family dear. Don't they miss you?" she asked, her back turned to Azula. She was poking around the small kitchen for pots and pans to make breakfast with. "Oh, can you try and rekindle the fire please? Blasted thing wouldn't keep overnight. This winter has been so bitter."

Azula knelt over the fire and tossed a few logs of firewood on only to realize they were still wet with snow. It was a wonder how this woman hadn't frozen to death overnight. Azula narrowed her sharp eyes at Kanna's back before gripping the logs with her hands and sending heat coursing through the wood, forcing them to dry in seconds. She answered Kanna's first questions while placing the bone-dry logs carefully into the pit, stoking the fire to life.

"I don't have family," she replied with a short, but pleasant tone. "Can I help you with breakfast?"

She hoped her offer would turn their conversation elsewhere. The thought of Zuko and their idiot uncle left a sour taste in her mouth. Kanna didn't back down. The woman turned around with an old clay pot in hand. "No family? How unfortunate. You must have been so lonely travelling on your own…"

Azula didn't miss the sharp gleam in the woman's icy blue eyes when she gazed down at the crackling bright fire. "My, I thought that wood was wet! Couldn't get the darn things to light last night."

"I don't mind being alone," Azula interrupted abruptly, clearing her throat nervously and mentally kicking herself for her mistake. Ozai was rife with irritation and berated her carelessness.

_Are you trying to reveal your identity or is the cold weather aiding in your overwhelming stupidity, daughter?_

Azula bristled with anger, snatching the pot out of Kanna's outstretched hands and placing it over the fire. Kanna didn't seem to notice, turning back around to pour water into the pot and get various ingredients for what looked like a stew. Azula averted her gaze from the woman, not wanting to be caught in her sharp, knowing eyes. They gleamed the way Sokka's did, sparkling with life and clarity she didn't meet in most people. It put her on edge.

The thought of Sokka and their morning duel rushed back to her and she felt her face flush red. What the hell was that, anyway? The idiot wouldn't put up a real fight and just as she was planning on blasting his face with a fiery kick, he'd yanked her off balance and forced her to use him to regain her footing. His skin was warm under her hands. Worse yet, she hadn't found it unpleasant to touch. It was smooth and slick with sweat. What should have repulsed her had instead set her heart racing and for some odd reason, her stomach flipped with excitement.

"Not minding being alone doesn't mean you like it, Song."

Azula paused. Kanna's words pierced deep. That box hidden deep inside her soul cracked open and the dark, crushing pain of loneliness crept into her heart. She'd spent so much of her life alone that she'd become accustomed to it. But being used to something didn't mean that she liked it. She'd never considered that before—it was never an option.

"Being alone means I don't need to rely on anyone but myself," she replied carefully.

_Don't you need me, daughter?_ Ozai hissed.

"Well, you aren't alone anymore. Not as long as you're here with us."

Kanna gave the steaming stew a stir with wrinkled hands. Azula considered her words, then Ozai's. Deep inside, she knew he wasn't wrong. There was a reason why he never left. He was a figment of her own mind, a toxic need for punishment she felt she deserved. Punishment for being weak, for allowing herself to be imprisoned, for letting Zuko win.

"Sokka seems to have taken a liking to you," Kanna continued when Azula didn't respond.

"He's been very kind," Azula replied as warmly as she could. The topic of the Chief of the Water Tribe made her uncomfortable and she didn't know why. Talking about him felt as though she was admitting to herself that he wasn't all that bad, and _that_ was bad. She needed to remember her purpose. She was getting too comfortable.

"He's a good boy. He'd always wanted to become Cheiftain as a child and take after his father. Well, I supposed I can't call him a boy anymore, can I?" Kanna chuckled. "He's a young man now."

Azula nodded in agreement, her lips pulled into a tight smile. "He was telling me about his girlfriend. She's far away, guarding the Fire Lord?" she asked. Sokka's girlfriend, the Kyoshi warrior she'd imprisoned not so long ago. The girl, Suki, had a strong spirit but was weak. She'd been easy to overpower and take advantage of. That thought satisfied her, but she didn't know why.

"Ah yes, Suki. Sweet girl, but she doesn't come around much. I fear that Sokka will grow lonely being apart from her for so long," Kanna sighed.

Sokka was lonely? Azula hadn't considered that. He was surrounded by friends, family, and loyal warriors. How could he possibly be lonely with all these people around? She was reminded of the loneliness she felt even when surrounded by guards, her so called friends, and her own father. Having people around meant nothing if they didn't care about you.

"Can you dry those logs off for me, dear?" Kanna asked kindly, still stirring the stew. Azula narrowed her eyes at the woman.

"Do you want me to hang them outside to dry?" she clarified.

"How else, Song?" Kanna responded with the same sharp eyes. Azula froze, meeting her gaze with a wide-eyed stare. The air was suddenly thick with tension and the silence seemed to stretch on forever. Azula's mind raced with the endless consequences of her identity being revealed—of all the people she'd have to kill to escape, starting with Kanna. The thought made her stomach lurch with nausea. But it was too late. The woman was too smart and Azula had been sloppy. There was no doubt that she knew, and she was waiting for Azula to reveal herself. Kanna was giving her this opportunity to come forward. Should she take it?

_Kill her,_ Ozai's slithery voice thundered in her head.

Azula took a deep breath, then reached out to the stack of soaked logs beside her. With a flick of her wrist, blue flames enveloped the logs and the wood crackled loudly as the water evaporated from it. She pulled the flame away just before the dried logs could catch, her eyes ever leaving Kanna's. To her surprise the old woman's face softened, and a kind smile stretched over her mouth.

"A pleasure to meet you, Princess Azula," Kanna stated simply, pulling the pot of stew from the fire and ladling some into two bowls. Azula tensed, averting her eyes from the woman. There was no need to pretend anymore.

"Are you going to reveal my identity to your little tribe?" she snapped, tapping her foot impatiently on the ground. "I can't promise your survival if you don't keep that mouth shut."

Kanna slowly shuffled to Azula, holding out a bowl of steaming soup. Azula gritted her teeth and turned her nose in the air. She heard the bowl placed at her feet and Kanna take her seat by the crackling fire. There was the sound of stew being sipped followed by a content sigh.

"How long have you known?" Azula pressed, the silence becoming too stifling for her. It took all she had not to bolt through that door and make a run for it—back to the cargo ships to escape to anywhere but here. Anything to escape from being caught and put back into the dark, damp, icy cell beneath the Fire Nation Palace.

"The minute I saw you, I knew. Those eyes… I've seen those eyes before. From a young man with a scar on his face who came looking for the Avatar so many years ago. You two have the same eyes. Angry, hurt, lonely."

Azula snorted spitefully. "Hundred of miles away and Zuko is still my downfall. How poetic."

"Firelord Zuko no longer has the same hurt in his eyes that you do, Azula. He has found peace… as can you."

_KILL HER!_ Ozai continued to bellow in Azula's mind. She struggled to tune him out, barely able to hear Kanna over his ruthless screaming in her mind. Her fingers were itching to set everything alight. The darkest parts of her wanted to watch everything burn, but even deeper still was a twinge of guilt and the desire to believe Kanna's words. Could she really find peace? She didn't know what it felt like to be happy, truly happy.

"We make war that we may live in peace," she sneered in response. "I'm still making my war."

There was a resigned sigh from Kanna before the woman responded softly, "Those who are at war with others are not at peace with themselves. But I believe you can find peace, Princess. Perhaps you can find it here."

Azula couldn't stop a sharp, uneven laugh that bubbled from her chest. "Peace? Here, with you savages? What, you think they'll take the treasonous daughter of the tyrant Ozai with open arms? There is no peace for me… not now, not ever. I don't even know why I'm entertaining this discussion with you. You're not a bender, you pose no threat to me other than that chatty little mouth," she accused, thrusting a pointed finger at Kanna's face.

"Swear you'll keep your trap shut and I won't kill your little tribe. I made the same deal with Chief Dunderhead the other night."

Kanna's expression wasn't one of fear or concern. The woman still carried a soft smile, albeit sad. Did she pity Azula? The notion was more irritating than she thought possible.

"You put up a tough front, young lady. But if you wanted to kill me, you would have done it the second I revealed my knowledge of your identity, as you would have killed my grandson."

Azula snarled, blue flames crackling to life in her palms. "You think I won't do it?"

"Oh no, dear. I believe you could, and you would to ensure your survival. But I also believe that there is good in your heart, even if you don't. I have faith that my life is safe in your presence, Azula. I'm trusting that with you, as is Sokka."

Azula faltered. She'd never felt her conscience pull her in such opposite directions. Hell, she'd barely had a conscience, period. Things were getting too messy, but her original plan was still intact. It wouldn't matter who knew of her identity later. Once Katara finally returned to the water tribe, all would be revealed anyway. She just had to continue playing her cards right and let them believe that she would do no harm… whilst not raising any suspicion. Until then, she needed to rebuild her strength.

_You're making the wrong choice,_ Ozai whispered.

_Fuck off, father._

She sat back down, taking the bowl of stew at her feet and taking a long sip. It was delicious and warmed her from the inside. From the pleased smile on Kanna's face, Azula had a feeling the woman wouldn't spill the beans. At least not while she could play off that she wasn't going to kill them… yet.

"Thank you, by the way," Kanna added. Azula raised a brow in confusion.

"The wood. It would have taken ages to dry. Will you dry some more for me this evening?"

Azula rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the flush in her cheeks. "Only if there are more fire flakes."

* * *

Azula spent the remainder of her day falling back into her false persona. Song was ever pleasant and unassuming. Kanna took her around the village to meet everyone. There were surprising amounts of children, particularly ones that could bend. It seemed that the Northern and Southern tribes were beginning to co-mingle and produce strong offspring. Regardless, children annoyed her. They were too loud, clumsy, and asked too many damn questions. It took all she had to reign in the urge set their hair on fire.

The adults were easy enough to fool. None of them seemed to question where she'd come from, nor where she was going. They welcomed their new tourist with surprising friendliness and curiosity about what laid beyond their icy walls. Most had never left their tribes before. Azula gave short, but polite answers and eventually quelled their curiosity. Kanna was beside her most of the day, gently guiding her to and from their destinations.

When they finally had a moment alone in the late afternoon, Azula found herself slumped into a chair in her hut behind Kanna's home. "Are they always that… chatty?"

"No, you're just new and interesting. It should die down in the next few days," Kanna replied with a chuckle. "It's almost supper time. I'll draw you a bath. Sokka should be arriving soon."

In the rush of the day, Azula had forgotten about Sokka. The thought of seeing him made her stomach flip with excitement and anxiety. The sensation was so odd, but she didn't dislike it. She heard Kanna put water to heat on the fire and she waved her hand dismissively at the woman. "Don't bother."

"Ah, yes. It's so lovely to have a firebender around," Kanna replied wistfully. Azula felt a smile creep onto her face and she schooled it back into a flat line. She quick warmed her own bath water to the perfect temperature and sunk deep into it when Kanna dismissed herself to make dinner.

The room was steamy with heat from her bath and the roaring fire. While her body was releasing tension, her mind was still racing with the day's events. Kanna had given her a lot to think about and she didn't know where to start. She'd said that Azula could find peace here, that she wasn't alone anymore. Azula wanted nothing more than to believe her words, but the darkness in her heart was still hungry for vengeance. She still wanted to kill Katara and reclaim her throne—more than she wanted to let go and live in peace. She didn't know if that raging fury or desire would ever subside… she didn't know if she wanted it to.

A knock on the hut door broke her thoughts.

"Hey, it's me. Are you dressed?" Sokka called through the door. Just how long had she been soaking in this bath? A glance out the small window confirmed that night had fallen, and it was dinner time. She pulled herself out of the steamy water and was dry before she'd even taken a few steps.

"I'll be out momentarily, dimwit," she called back. Her heart was racing, and she couldn't quiet it. She yanked on the thick furs Kanna had laid out for her and took a quick glance at her reflection in the window. She'd almost forgotten that she'd cropped her own hair and she didn't immediately recognize herself. Long gone was the beautiful, young Princess of the Fire Nation with her golden crown and red robes. Azula sighed, tucking hair behind her ear and giving herself a smile that didn't meet her eyes.

"Get it together," she whispered to herself before making her way to open the door for Sokka. He was leaning casually against the frame of the door. The falling snow was catching in his hair, coating it in icy white flakes. She tried not to look too closely at him, but it was impossible not to when he was towering over her, just inches away. He was grinning down at her with that stupid crooked smile and she was reminded of their spar. When she felt her cheeks grow hot, she side stepped and turned away.

"Well, are you coming in or not? You're letting the heat out," she snapped impatiently. He strutted into the room and plopped down by the fire, sighing in heavy relief as he shrugged out of his thick outer coat and gloves. She watched with wary eyes as he settled in for a few minutes, rubbing his hands together to warm back up. She briefly felt guilty for soaking in a steamy bath for so long while he was out in the cold.

"Are we going to talk about our spar this morning?" he asked, throwing a new log onto the fire and stoking it to life. Azula's eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Okay then, how about what you and Gran Gran discussed today?" he shot back, icy blue eyes meeting hers.

"There's nothing to talk about," she repeated coldly. "If all you're here for is to interrogate me, you can get the hell out. I don't have time for this."

She was irritated. Beyond irritated. What had she expected? For him to waltz in and be kind and sweet when all she'd given him up until then was venom and spite? It was her own fault and she knew it, but still… she was irritated. She headed towards the exit, desperately needing fresh air despite the icy cold she knew laid outside.

"Wait, 'Zula! I'm sorry," Sokka called. He was quickly on his feet and stood in front of the door before she could leave. "I didn't mean to upset you. I really just… I want to talk to you."

"About what?" she demanded, hands on her hips. There were just a few inches between them now and she had her sites set on the exit— tall, dark, and handsome Chief be damned.

"About, uh…," he trailed off, his eyes refusing to meet hers as he struggled for an answer. He was hiding something. Azula snarled, snatching his collar with a vice grip and yanking him down to her eye level.

"I've been lying and deceiving my whole life, Sokka, so don't think you can hide anything from me," she hissed. His eyes darted back to hers and she nearly let go of his tunic. His face was just millimeters from hers and she could feel his warm breath on her face. At this range she could see the tiny flecks of gray in his cerulean eyes, could see the tiny wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes from too much laughter. She knew she didn't have those lines on her own face.

He seemed to freeze as well, his eyes roaming her face as if he'd never get the chance to be this close again. Azula released his shirt and tried to step back, but found her wrist caught in his warm grip. It was a gentle hold, one she could break out of easily... but she couldn't find the will to.

She breathed a sigh of relief when he seemed to realize what he was doing and let go of her wrist. She snatched it back as though she'd been burned, turning away from him.

"Kanna asked me to dry some logs for her," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. She took a deep breath and spun around, bee-lining for the door. Sokka was no longer standing in the way, but off to the side. She knew he wanted to say something, but it seemed he couldn't spit it out.

"Don't worry," she whispered at the door. "I won't hurt her."

Sokka smiled sadly at her.

"I know, 'Zula."

She left him alone in her hut with more questions than answers. One thing was certain—she needed to find out what he was hiding from her.


End file.
